Among the Dead
by magicmania87
Summary: As Harry Potter and Kiana Karn begin their new life as husband and wife, their hopes for the future are destroyed when the Doors to the Veil are unintentionally opened. An evil greater than before has risen from the grave, threatening to tear them apart.
1. The Awakening

Chapter One: The Awakening

Marriage is not a ritual or an end.  
It is a long, intricate,  
intimate dance together  
and nothing matters more  
than your own sense of balance  
and your choice of partner.

**- Amy Bloom **

If historians knew how often young children have changed the course of history, they'd be astonished. It was no different in the wizarding world, where on a cold, overcast night inBibury, England, a young boy unwittingly changed the lives of many forever.

Charles Lorne walked stiffly and with hesitant steps, his arms wrapped snuggly around a heavy wool bag. The dust flew from under his shoes, sending dirt into his eyes and halting his progress. His eyes watered as he coughed, but he tried his best to ignore his discomfort as he trudged on.

At last, he found the cause of his desperate search: an old arch among a thick pile of stones. The boy, merely eight years old, felt he could easily be devoured in the wide, vacant space of the stone arch. He peered up through his tear-filled eyes to notice strange engravings across the top of the stone. He couldn't be sure because of his hazy vision, but he didn't think the engraved symbols were English.

Shaking away the strange sense of delirium that had settled upon him, Charles refocused his gaze on the bag he carried. He shifted the weight in his hands as he lowered himself to the ground. He could feel the body within the bag as his fingers hit a stiff leg. He could almost picture his cat staring up at him, its eyes wide and lifeless, from behind the thin material of the wool.

Shaking his head to dispel that frightful image, Charles shifted through a few large, cumbersome stones until he found the hole he had dug a day prior. Because of his limited strength, the boy had only managed to create a space three to four feet deep, but this had satisfied him.

Smearing his tears across his sleeve, Charles carefully placed his old friend in the cold, wet ground underneath the mysterious arch.

But as he pulled his hands away from the cat's corpse, his right hand scraped against a jagged rock. With a cry, the boy pulled his hand out to find his skin dripping scarlet blood over the grave. He hastily wiped the blood onto his tan trousers, but this sent dirt into the wound, making his eyes water further.

The moment the first drop of blood entered the grave, the stone arch burst into a blinding blue flame. The boy, his scream stuck in his chest, fell backwards and crawled awkwardly out of the stone pile. He moved quickly as if the flame had reached out to grab him. His heart jolted in his chest as his eyes remained glued, hypnotized, on the fiery arch.

When nothing changed except the glow burning deeper and deeper into the dark blanket of night, the boy collected his senses enough to jump up and run swiftly away from the arch.

But his movements abruptly halted when, out of the corner of his eye, Charles noticed his beloved cat, a grey tabby, push itself out of its grave with amazing strength. It gave him one unblinking stare before it walked away from its gravesite completely unharmed.

Around a week later, inside Christ Church in the scenic town of Bath, England, another life-altering occurrence was taking place. A young woman with deep brown hair paced back and forth anxiously. She wore a white and strapless wedding gown that flowed gently around her ankles as she walked. She had taken off her white gloves and wrung them furiously as she muttered incomprehensible words again and again.

Kiana Karn was about to engage in one of the most momentous moments of her life, but something was very wrong.

She finally halted in both her pacing and her frantic mutterings and faced the man and woman sitting on the couch nearest the windows. The woman was dressed in a rich turquoise dress and shawl, the lacy bust sporting sparkles of tiny diamonds. Her curly hair was piled up in a fashionable up-do, and a single pink rose rested among the strands. She folded a piece of parchment over and over in her hands, but she focused only on the bride in front of her. The man beside her had bright red hair and wore a navy suit, but instead of focusing on the bride's anxious movements, he read _The Daily Prophet _with deep concentration.

"Hermione, it's been _fifteen minutes _and no one's heard from him." Kiana tried to force her voice to sound calm, but hints of hysteria rushed out.

Hermione Granger sighed, her lips forming a sad, sympathetic smile. "Kiana, I'm sure he just got held back. His letter says that it was deeply urgent; close to an emergency, perhaps. We should hope that everything is settled alright. His letter _does _sound deeply apologetic…"

"Rubbish!" the man blurted out, throwing his newspaper on the floor and grabbing the letter Hermione held in her hand. "Let me see that…hum, just as I thought. _'…been delayed at the Ministry for over an hour...could only owl a short letter…I'm fine, don't worry.' _Sounds like our friend Mr. Potter has found himself with a case of the wedding blues. And I thought it was stereotypically the bride who ran away from the alter!"

Hermione's jaw dropped, and she whacked her boyfriend hard on the shoulder. "This is one of the _worst times _for your jokes, Ronald Weasley! You should be ashamed of yourself; you probably put two million bad ideas into Kiana's head…" She ignored Ron's exaggerated whines as he clutched his shoulder. She turned to give Kiana another supportive glance. "Don't listen to a word that oaf utters, Kiana. Harry would never in a million years do something mad on his wedding day."

Ron, forgetting his shoulder pain, looked up at the ceiling whimsically. "Like bungee diving, sky diving, a spur-of-the-moment holiday in France with two very attractive blonds…" He stopped when he caught Hermione's wide-eyed, murderous stare. "Err…I mean, Hermione's right, Kiana. Harry's much more sensitive than your ordinary bloke about to get hitched. He doesn't need to let off steam during his last few hours as a bachelor."

Kiana no longer listened, but pursed her lips as she stared desperately at the closed door. An uncomfortable silence filled the small room before Kiana murmured, "But what if Ron's right? What if Harry _is _terrified of marriage and doesn't want to commit? What if he's in France right now in a hot tub with…"

Hermione groaned and bolted up from her seat. She stalked up to her friend and spun her around until they looked eye-to-eye. "Listen to me, Kiana. You're starting to go mad yourself with this waiting, but you know in your heart that Harry would – for one – never lie to you. If he says he's held up at the Ministry, then he's held up at the Ministry."

"And it bloody better be an emergency meeting!" Ron added angrily.

Hermione nodded in agreement. "I'm sure it might be serious. Don't you think others, like the Minister himself, wouldn't keep Harry there on the day of his own wedding if it weren't serious?"

Kiana's brown eyes slowly widened. "But how serious could it be?"

Hermione shook her head hastily. "Never mind; don't think about that. Let's think about how happy we'll all be once Harry returns and all this will be over! This will seem rather amusing when we look back on it. It'll be the best story you'll ever tell your grandchildren!"

Kiana smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You're right, Hermione. I shouldn't be so negative when I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation."

She noticed Ron shake his head. "This is why I told you to get married in Vegas, Kiana. It would've been ten times quicker and easier. Plus, you could've done it right after Harry proposed to save me from your one hundred performances of 'Chapel of Love'…"

Kiana ignored him as she chewed on her fingernails. Hermione knocked her hand away, but she couldn't calm the terror in Kiana's heart. Kiana had never been this anxious before, but she knew she had a good excuse: her entire existence and happiness depended on this one moment. If Harry didn't marry her, she wasn't sure how she'd survive without him…

Her thoughts were unexpectedly interrupted with a sharp knock. Kiana gasped inwardly and took a hurried step toward the door, but Hermione rushed in front of her and pushed her back. The women were exactly the same height, so Kiana had no physical advantage over her.

"_Wait,_ Kiana!" Hermione ordered as another knock echoed through the room. "You're all dressed; Harry can't see you until the ceremony!"

Kiana let out a sarcastic laugh as she struggled to get around her. "I think this is a proper moment to screw traditions, Hermione!"

Hermione noticed Ron head for the door and called out, "Good! Get the door, Ron, but don't open it too wide."

When Kiana realized she would have to physically fight the girl to get to the door, she stopped resisting with a sigh. Ron peeked around the door and muttered to the person beyond.

"Is it Harry?" Kiana nearly screamed as she stood on her toes to see around Hermione.

Ron twisted his head around and nodded once. "He's not dressed yet, so Seamus is trying to urge him into the dressing room."

"Let me talk to him, Hermione!" Kiana jumped up and down as she cast a desperate look at Hermione.

Hermione studied Ron for a moment, who just shrugged, before she faced Kiana. "Okay, okay…but do it from around the door. _No peeking! _I don't want to get you in and out of that dress again."

Kiana rolled her eyes as she dashed to the door, trying not to trip on the expensive fabric of her dress. She stood with her back to the wood and turned her head until saw a thin shadow on the door pane. She didn't dare look farther in case Hermione shut the door entirely.

"Harry, are you there?"

"I'm here." He hadn't tried to hide it – his voice was undeniably weary.

Kiana bit her lip with a mix of emotions. She wanted to scream at him and laugh with relief at the same time. "Don't take this the wrong way, Harry, but um…_where the hell were you?" _

Kiana heard him exhale slowly and deeply, making her catch her breath. If Harry _had _been fooling around with girls before their wedding, his voice didn't support that kind of activity. And Harry wasn't known for being England's greatest actor.

"I was summoned to an emergency meeting at the Ministry," he finally replied, his voice hovering at a low, defeated tone. "I tried to explain to them the situation, but…it was mandatory. I got here as soon as I could. I'm so sorry, Kiana."

She realized she had been holding her breath and let out a gust of air. "Harry, I…are you okay? Was it serious?"

As if her words had awoken him from a depressive state, his voice rose a level or two. She could tell he tried to sound dismissive, but he didn't fool her in the slightest.

"Oh no, don't worry about that," he said. "It's over now. I'm just glad I could get here before you turned into a runaway bride out of anger. I wish I could hold you and tell you how sorry I am eye-to-eye…"

Kiana groaned. "I'd let you, but there's this one friend of yours who might strangle me if I do. You'll have plenty of time to make it up to me later."

Ron snorted in an unsuccessful attempt to hide a snicker, and both Kiana and Hermione shot him an irritated glare.

"I heard that, Ron!" Harry let out a chuckle himself. "I gotta go; we're already a half hour behind schedule. I'll see you at the alter, love."

"Okay. I love you, Harry."

"I love you more," he replied fondly, his voice already carrying to her from a distance.

Kiana sighed heavily as she shut the door and turned back to Ron and Hermione. Silence took over the tiny room as Hermione rushed up to Kiana and held her tight.

Ron grunted a moment later. "This never would've happened in Vegas."

Kiana had been so preoccupied with Harry's tardiness that, when she found herself being prepped to walk down the aisle, her nerves caught up to her. She wasn't terrified of getting married, per say, but the extravagance of the affair – from her £ 8,000 bridal dress to the bundles of fresh white lilies dotting every open space in the church – reminded her of how momentous that day was.

She was about to pledge a vow of undying faithfulness and companionship until death separated them. It was no flamboyant promise, but Kiana couldn't imagine spending each day with any other man than Harry Potter. This had all come about because of him.

With her heart skipping beats and pounding in her chest, Kiana Karn bravely stepped out into the church's aisle and met the hundreds of faces peering back at her. She almost froze in terror until her anxious gaze fell upon the dark-haired man at the front of the church.

Harry was glowing; there was no other word to describe the content smile on his face or the joy in his eyes. He looked upon her like there was nothing else in the church that could possibly compare to her beauty.

His gaze caused Kiana to forget every other person in the church and walk forward without one shaky step. She clutched her bouquet of lilies tightly as she locked gazes with her fiancé and stepped out into the first moments of forever.


	2. Secrets and Memories

Chapter Two: Secrets and Memories

Love was to his impassioned soul,

Not a mere part of its existence,

But the whole, the very life-breath of his heart.

- **Thomas Moore**

After they departed from the reception hall to their hotel, Kiana was beyond frantic to ask Harry where he had been before the wedding. But the reality was clear from the solemn glances he sent her when she tried to ask the question: there would be no discussion of "the event" that night.

"I don't want to destroy an already perfect day," Harry said when she turned away from him in irritated silence in their limo. "Don't you want to look back at this day with fondness instead of regret at bringing up the topic? Because it was no holiday I escaped to before our wedding, Kiana; I know that's what you've been thinking. I didn't want to be anywhere else in the world than with you, but it was beyond necessary. You'll understand soon enough, but I don't want to speak of it now."

From his tone, it sounded to Kiana like he didn't wish for her to understand _ever. _But out of wifely duty, she didn't speak another word about it the rest of the night.  
When they arrived at their hotel in London ten minutes later, Kiana fell upon the king-sized bed with pure exhaustion. She had experienced almost all possible human emotions through out the day - from terror to ecstasy - and her body now felt the full effect of that process.

But regardless of her fatigue, she wasn't about to forget the tradition dating back to the beginning of time that occurred on a couple's wedding night.

"Give me a second while I get changed…"

Kiana frowned at her new husband from the bed as he passed by her. "Why do you have to get changed? We're just going to play Wizard Chess. You can lose in your tux just as well as in your pajamas."

Harry studied her with serious eyes. "Wizard Chess? Is that what you Americans do on the night of your wedding?"

Kiana smiled mischievously, and Harry's lips twitched into half a smile. "Well, in England we do things a bit differently."

Kiana raised her eyebrows in mock surprise. "How so?"

Harry hesitated for a few seconds, his smile becoming almost devilish, before he started for the bed, and Kiana backed away with a playful squeal. She had almost hauled herself off the mattress when Harry dived, throwing himself on top of her. Kiana let out a startled shriek and became trapped in his embrace…

Weeks past since their wedding night, and Kiana still experienced the high that came from marrying her one love. Nothing in her daily life caused her grief, because she always had Harry to wake up to and fall asleep with. She experienced everything that life offered with exaggerated glee, and nothing they did as a couple was dull…

Except for one thing.

It seemed to Kiana that she attended her fiftieth football match, having been tricked into coming by her lovely husband. Kiana was not a fan of many sports (Quidditch being the only sport she actively supported and enjoyed). She found most other sports (both American and British) unnecessarily violent, and the fans too prone to violence themselves while supporting their team.

To Kiana, this was never as true as it was in U.K. football (or soccer, as the Americans called it). She had been present at more than one brawl in the stands; one which included some drunken idiot spilling his whole glass of beer on top of her.

After the beer incident, Kiana explicitly told Harry that she would never attend another football match unless she was tied up, gagged, and drugged. And Harry had, ultimately, agreed.

That had been almost two months ago. Thus, on that cloudy evening a few weeks after their wedding, Kiana was thoroughly annoyed to find herself at yet another football match (she didn't know who was playing – she honestly couldn't care less). Harry had, sneakily, picked up Seamus Finnigan and Ron in his Muggle car after telling Kiana that they all were going out for supper.

The football pitch Harry pulled up to didn't exactly look like the usual restaurants Kiana attended.

"Aw, come on, Kiana," Ron urged after she refused to get out of the car. "Harry's just trying to help you enjoy the sport more. Football is one of the most popular Muggle sports in…"

"I don't care if I were scorned and exiled from England for disliking football," Kiana muttered in reply. "Harry _promised me _I would never have to attend one of these terrible…"

"Fine, okay!" Harry cried, holding up his hands in surrender. "Stay in the car, then. We're going to watch the match, and I have your ticket if you ever decide to join us."

After fifteen minutes alone in the car, Kiana finally concluded that watching grown men scream out vile words at the opposing team was better than sitting in a stuffy, silent car. Once seated beside the boys (much to Harry's amusement – he kept smirking at her the entire match), Kiana entertained herself by relentlessly texting Michelle Simonson on her cell phone.

Michelle and her siblings Jenny, Julie, and Max had all transferred to Hogwarts in her and Michelle's sixth year. After graduating, Michelle and her sister, Jenny, had returned to Minnesota to find a job at a nearby wizarding academy. Kiana, not wishing to force Harry to move to America with her, decided to remain in England. She didn't usually regret her decision, but during some uncomfortable moments (like now when she was surrounded by football fanatics), she wished she had an American friend to go to.

"Kiana, murdering your thumbs may not be the best idea," Seamus commented as he watched Kiana hack away at the buttons. "You may need those in the future."

Kiana ignored him and kept her eyes glued on her phone. She didn't even notice when her entire section stood up in a roar of applause as their supporting team scored a goal.

During one rare moment when she did raise her head, Kiana unintentionally gave Seamus the opportunity to snatch her cell from her hand.

_"Hey!" _she screeched, lunging at him. "Stop acting like some immature schoolboy and give that back to me! I'm hardly disrupting _your_ fun!"

Seamus ignored her outbursts as he turned his back and scrolled through her latest messages. "Hmm…complain much, Kiana?"

"What? Don't read through my private conver…"

Seamus stopped at one particular text with a wide grin. "Oh, I like this one: _lol ur right, this game is as ridiculous as U.S. football and 2x as boisterous…_"

"SEAMUS FINNIGAN! I swear I'll…"

During another desperate lunge to grab her phone back, Seamus threw the device to Ron just as Kiana had snatched his arm. Ron read the remainder of her texts before she could stop him.

"_U should make Harry give u 200 back massages after this…Plz don't get mauled by angry fans game, u need 2 come back 2 MN soon."_

Sporting a deep frown, Kiana grudgingly abandoned her attempts and stood, folding her arms across her chest. "This game is _so_ amusing that I wonder why you idiots don't steal my cell more often."

All three chuckled as Ron tossed her phone to Harry. Her husband smiled sweetly as Kiana turned her glare upon him.

"Surely _you _have the maturity to end this foolish game, Potter."

Harry scrolled through her texts with a gleam in his eyes. "Oh, I dunno, Kiana. I think the testosterone-filled atmosphere has poisoned my mind…oh, this one's cute: _If Harry forces u 2 another game, tell him ur green card expired & u can't live in England. _Does Michelle really think I'm mental enough to believe that?"

Kiana inched closer to him until their faces were inches apart. "Well, you're pretty mental right now, because guess who holds the car keys? Someone may be walking home tonight…"

Harry laughed openly and stuck her phone in his back jeans pocket. "I didn't know you were fond of hitchhiking, Kiana! Because everyone in London knows how petrified you are of driving on the left-hand side of the road."

Kiana ground her teeth together before pushing herself away and situating herself a good five feet from the boys. She loathed the look of triumph on Harry's face.

"You think you've won, Potter, but let's see how much you enjoy the match while I sit here and pout. You'll have to have a hormonal girl on your tail the rest of the night."

"See what happens when Americans have their mobiles taken away?" Seamus muttered to Ron, who snorted in amusement. Kiana glared out at the match, not speaking to anyone until later after Harry had dropped Seamus and Ron off and brought her home.

Kiana's anger, which had slowly dissipated on the drive home, completely vanished by the time Harry pulled up beside their small, two-story home in Fulham, a suburb outside London. A fierce and painful itching of her left forearm had risen during the last moments of the match, but Kiana had tried to be discrete about her harsh scratching.

Harry noticed her red forearm after putting the car in park. All pleasure vanished from his face, and his eyes rested, unblinkingly, on her arm.

"It's happening again, isn't it?"

Kiana slowly nodded, avoiding his concerned gaze. "It's never been this bad," she murmured, almost to herself, as she dug her fingernails again and again into her skin.

Harry grabbed her right hand and pulled it away. "Stop, Kiana; you'll make it worse."

Kiana clenched her jaw and pulled open her door. She kept her arm tightly pressed against her side as they entered the house, as if keeping the skin hidden would lessen the ache.

As soon as Harry had thrown his car keys and wallet onto an empty chair in the sitting room, he ordered Kiana onto the couch. She obeyed without a fuss, though she continued to tear at her forearm like she wished to gouge her own skin. Her skin had turned bright red and bumpy in protest, but no symbol appeared under the discoloration.

Harry's ointment was still doing its job.

Harry returned to the sitting room with a small, vase-shaped bottle and a bowl of water. Sitting beside his wife, Harry took her forearm and studied it carefully.

"I don't understand it," he said softly. "It's not showing through, yet it's bothering you something fierce. When was the last time I applied the ointment?"

Kiana shrugged, not wishing to reflect on another discomforting experience. "About two weeks ago, I think."

"Hmm. It's supposed to last a month."

Kiana didn't want to speak about it for long, but an urgent question sprang to her mind. "It's not the medication itself that's causing my arm to break out? Do you think it's getting…old?"

Harry smiled slightly as he opened the glass bottle of ointment. "These things don't have an expiry date, Kiana. But still, I may have to ask Professor Livingston about it. It shouldn't be giving you _any _trouble this early on."

Professor Livingston was, among his many talents, a Potions master at the Ministry of Magic. Harry, being an Auror-in-Training at the Ministry, could easily ask the professor about a magical ointment to cover up any unwanted marks or blemishes. Harry didn't tell him exactly what he needed the ointment for, of course, but luckily it never came up. Everyone who knew Kiana used it thought that she possessed some strange mole she needed hidden for cosmetic reasons.

The real reason for her stock of magical ointment was far more serious and life-altering than a gruesome mole.

Deep in thought, Kiana hadn't noticed that Harry had stopped trying to open the ointment bottle and now studied her arm in intense silence.

"Harry?"

"I changed my mind." He shook himself out of his dreamlike state and screwed the top back onto the bottle. He pulled Kiana's forearm into the bowl of water, which, Kiana quickly realized, wasn't water at all. It was a clear liquid that fizzled and popped when it came into contact with her skin. It also stung like steam on a bad cut, and Kiana winced as Harry immersed her entire forearm.

"I'm sorry." He glanced up at her with concern. "It's the only way to wash the medication off completely."

Within seconds, the flesh-colored ointment washed off her skin and revealed the terrifying figure of a skull and long snake protruding grotesquely from its mouth: the Dark Mark.

Though her husband had seen her Mark hundreds of times upon her arm, the same complex web of emotions showed through Harry's eyes: revulsion mixed with intense misery. No matter how often Kiana tried to comfort him and explain that her Death Eater status years before had not been his fault, Kiana knew how deep set Harry's beliefs were. He still nursed blame for her torturous experiences with Voldemort, Snape and Bellatrix – and Kiana knew in her heart that he probably always would.

"I don't want to reapply the ointment until I talk to Professor Livingston," Harry explained, rubbing his fingers slowly and carefully across her Mark. The remaining ointment dissolved from her skin with some persistence, turning the clear liquid in the bowl a murky brown. "Until then, you should wrap a bandage around it and wear long sleeves. Try to keep that arm concealed as often as possible for at least a few days."

Kiana sighed in resignation. "If that will stop the itching and burning for awhile, I guess I'll take it."

Harry leaned over and kissed her lightly on the lips. "I'm grateful we could use this medication at all – it's not generally a commonly used ointment. And thankfully Livingston still doesn't ask questions when I keep asking for refills. I guess it's because I'm…"

"Harry Potter," Kiana filled in with a shy smile. "Being 'The Chosen One' has its advantages, doesn't it?"

Harry smiled back as he wiped her arm with a fresh towel. "Sometimes, Kiana; only sometimes. Other times I want to wear my Invisibility Cloak every day, or at least use that same ointment to cover up this annoying mark of my own." He fingered his lightning bolt scar with irritation. "I wish it had gone away with Voldemort's death."

"Better to have it turned into an ordinary scar than have to deal with uncomfortable throbbing forever." Kiana glared at her Dark Mark as Harry released her arm. "I don't understand why now…" She stopped and frowned. "Is something wrong, Harry?"

Harry looked taken aback as he pulled his sleeve further down his left arm. "What?"

"You seem to be taking particular care with that arm." She motioned toward the mentioned body part with her hand. "Did you hurt yourself?"

"Oh…no, not badly," he replied hastily, rubbing his left forearm. "I got a decent cut from a kitchen knife the other day. Don't worry about it."

Kiana's frown deepened because, if her wizarding knowledge served her correctly, that sort of injury was easily cured with a spell. He also had brushed her concern off too quickly, raising her suspicions. But her exhaustion stopped her from badgering him about it.

Harry, noticing her sour expression, reached out and squeezed her shoulder affectionately. "How 'bout you relax in the tub for awhile while I fix something up for you? Then we can both turn in early. I'd say all that football excitement we both experienced did us in."

Kiana snorted. "Oh yes, my limbs are so weary from jumping up and down in frantic applauding. I'm surprised my voice hasn't left me for all the screaming I did in the stands!"

Harry rolled his eyes as she headed for the stairs. "So I guess I'll have to return the season pass I bought you for Christmas," he called to her as he vanished the healing supplies on the couch with his wand. "I thought going to each match would be a special date night for us."

"That'd be fine if you think an enjoyable date equals you watching football alone while I fall asleep on your shoulder."

Harry stuck his tongue out playfully, and she returned his antic before disappearing up the staircase.

Texting on his mobile the Muggle way would've been more efficient, but Harry did not want to chance his message being read by anyone else. Instead he owled his letter to Ron and Hermione, his first go-to couple when he had questions he couldn't answer by himself. They had recently moved into a flat together in London, so only owling one letter was necessary.

Harry reread his note several times to certify that no one could easily guess the subject of conversation. Even with Voldemort gone and the wizarding world in relative safety, Harry had learned long ago to be cautious with every piece of communication - especially when the communication involved confidential information about his wife.

_Ron and Hermione –_

_No need to fret; everything is fine here. We've been experiencing some difficulty with the concoction we've been using for months, and it's troubling me. Why would its qualities suddenly fail when it doesn't expire? Could the professor have messed up the ingredients for this particular batch? _

_I wouldn't have bothered you if I wasn't concerned, so I'd appreciate any advice you can give me. I just don't want Kiana to suffer so unnecessarily. _

_Hope you both are doing well and enjoying your new flat. We'll be around to see it soon._

_Much love,_

_Harry_

After posting the letter with their new owl, Kipten, Harry retired to bed. Kiana was already asleep when he arrived in their bedroom, her breathing slow and relaxed. Almost without thinking, Harry studied her left forearm in the soft glow of the bedside lamp. Her skin was still red and slightly inflamed from her incessant scratching, but it obviously wasn't keeping her awake, which he was grateful for. There was nothing Harry hated more than watching his wife suffer when he could do so little for her.

After taking Kiana into his arms and pulling her closer to him, he figured it wouldn't be long before sleep found him. Instead, he found himself painfully recounting moments he would rather forget.

He realized, as his mind wandered, that it had only been in the past few weeks that Kiana had started moaning and tensing in her sleep. It usually happened long after she first fell into her dreams, and in the morning she didn't remember ever doing it. But Harry had repeatedly seen her wincing and gripping her Dark Mark with ferocity (her soft cries always awakened him right away). He could not figure out if she experienced ordinary nightmares or painful visions, but he would always hold her tight during those moments and whisper soothing words into her ear. This usually calmed her enough for her to release the tension she held on her arm, and she'd soon sleep without a sound.

The more he thought about it, the more his insides reacted with terrifying unease. Kiana's nightmares had not been an ongoing thing since Voldemort's demise; they had begun as little as a fortnight ago. And now her Dark Mark was bothering her during the day – another rare and sudden occurrence.

As Harry held her now, he found himself subconsciously rubbing his thumb along her Mark. This usually did not bother her, but now she tensed in his arms and pulled away, although she remained asleep. Harry released her arm and Kiana pulled it closer to her chest, as if protecting her Mark from Harry's touch.

This action, if anything, sent his heart racing. He had to consciously remind himself over and over that her pain was more than likely the reality of Voldemort's Dark Mark – even with the Dark Lord dead, his Mark would still trigger pain for its bearer every now and again. Kiana's pain could not be some sort of warning of Voldemort's activity, for nothing could bring him back…

This thought process calmed Harry down enough to allow his mind to wander elsewhere, though the new memories that came to him were hardly less painful. The more he focused on his wife's Mark, the more he realized that he could never completely erase the uncontainable rage and sorrow the Dark Mark's presence brought to his heart. It had been years since he had first learned from Dumbledore that his love had been branded with the Mark, but the reality of Kiana's sacrifice still hit him hard.

No, it didn't seem that long ago when Dumbledore had explained to him all Kiana had gone through to keep him safe: how she had been "taught" by Bellatrix and suffered through the witch's gruesome punishments; how both Bella and Snape had altered her mind until Kiana almost lost herself in insanity; and finally how Voldemort had claimed his wife forever with his own magical form of possession.

And Kiana had gone through it all for nothing else but her care for him. There was no other reason for her complete submission at the feet of all those Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. She had shown Harry the ultimate form of love, but Harry could never pay her back no matter what he did.

He tried to hold the memory back, but it rushed upon him like a tidal wave, obscuring everything else in his mind. It was the night after Harry had come back to Kiana in the Gryffindor Common Room. Dumbledore was to speak to both him and Kiana about the next course of action now that Voldemort knew of Kiana's betrayal. The words Dumbledore spoke that night were as clear in Harry's mind now as they were then. Harry could recall every syllable spoken that fateful night…

"I don't want to do this, Harry. What if Dumbledore separates us? You're in more danger with me than you ever were alone."

They stopped at the door to Dumbledore's office. Harry shook his head as he pushed stray stands of brown hair out of Kiana's frightened eyes. "Don't think such rubbish, Kiana; you know Dumbledore would never suggest such a thing now. Didn't we just prove to him that separating us would be pure folly?"

Kiana sighed as she picked fuzz off her sweater. There was still a good week left before the spring term began, but Kiana seriously doubted that she'd return to her classes at Hogwarts again. She was ready for Dumbledore to tell her to run, unless it was too late for even that. Even though Harry had joined her in her bed on Christmas night, she hadn't slept more than a few hours. Each minute, she expected Voldemort to swoop down upon her like a phantom and take her away from Harry for good.

She was seriously surprised she had lasted this long.

"Enter," came Dumbledore's voice from within.

Kiana inhaled deeply as Harry took her hand and led her through the door and into the grand office of the Headmaster.

Dumbledore smiled warmly from behind his desk and motioned for the couple to take the two proffered seats in front. Kiana was eerily reminded of the day, now seemingly so long ago, when Dumbledore had changed her life forever by asking her to join the Death Eaters. She hoped he had better news for her now.

If Dumbledore was surprised at Kiana's sudden change of appearance, he didn't show it. Having wandered around Hogwarts often enough as a Goth, Kiana suspected that everyone in the school would now give her a double take. Not many realized that her _true _appearance and amiable personality were only now starting to reappear.

Dumbledore kept his kind gaze on Kiana, surveying her with thoughtfulness. Harry and Kiana took a seat across from him (Harry clutching her hand fiercely) and waited for the Headmaster to speak.

"If I may say, Kiana, it is wonderful to see your beauty return both inside and out," Professor Dumbledore told her genially.

Kiana smiled shyly, embarrassed at the direct compliment.

"It will be great to have the rest of Hogwarts see her for the girl she really is," Harry put in. "I hate how she's starting to develop the reputation as a moody Goth. Next term, she'll shock them all."

Dumbledore's expression darkened instantly, and Harry felt his heart pound with terrifying expectation.

_This is when it all comes out, _Harry thought with increasing anger. _The truth about her future – our future – will change our lives forever._

Harry squeezed Kiana's hand in compassion as Dumbledore opened his mouth to deliver the blow.

But it was Kiana who spoke first. "I'm not going back to Hogwarts next term, am I, Professor?"

Dumbledore directed sorrowful eyes at her and slowly nodded. "We need to keep you as safe and out of the public eye as much as possible. Unfortunately, it's more difficult to shield you when you're among so many others. We need to place you in a home that's Unplottable and protected by a Secret Keeper. You must remain as hidden away as possible until Voldemort is vanquished."

Dumbledore's gaze fell upon Harry for half a moment before he returned his attention to Kiana. "You will remain in a home with surrogate parents who will help to continue your magical education. You must remain inside as often as possible, however difficult this may be for you. Voldemort or one of his Death Eaters can claim you in fifteen seconds if they have to. Therefore, we are taking no chances."

Kiana's face remained impassive. It scared Harry how emotionally vacant she was.

The most prevalent question appeared in both Harry and Kiana's minds, but it was awhile before Kiana had the strength to voice it aloud.

"And I must remain in England?"

Dumbledore nodded sadly. "It is my greatest regret to inform you that it would be, at this point in time, unsafe for you to live anywhere else. You have the most support and protection in England, and, if I'm not mistaken, your family does not know the recent occurrences in your life?"

Kiana nodded ever so slightly. She was stiff and pale, and Harry wanted nothing more than to make all her pain go away and protect her himself. From the moment he had heard of Voldemort's hold on her, he knew how painful the future would be. But he hadn't fully realized how much he would suffer alongside her.

"I shall make sure your family knows you're okay, but I cannot allow you to keep any correspondence with them. They would be just one more set of people Voldemort may want to use to hurt you."

"Yes, don't tell them anything," Kiana stated quickly. "I don't want them involved in any way. I'll do anything to keep them safe."

It was unspoken, but the truth was as plain as the moon's light filtering in through Dumbledore's window: it would be a long, long time before Kiana saw her family or her home country again.

Dumbledore continued with urgency, apparently determined not to sit in that painful, eerie silence for long. "Harry, I assume you'll shoulder the burden of being the Secret Keeper of Kiana's new location?"

Harry barely hesitated. "You don't need to ask, Professor."

Dumbledore nodded once. "Very well. Kiana, I've found a wonderful wizarding couple in Chorleywood who will look after you like their own daughter. You'll be taken care of well there, but I must stress the importance of keeping yourself hidden. Unfortunately, the wisest decision would be for you not to accept any visitors, except occasionally Harry."

Harry raised his eyebrows in disbelief. "_Occasionally, _Professor?"

"You heard me correctly, Harry. Because Voldemort knows how fiercely you desire to be at Kiana's side every day, he will watch your movements closely to see where you go. If you're spending a lot of time around the same area, he'll begin to suspect that Kiana's whereabouts are close by. To protect both your safety and hers, I will have to shorten your visits at her new home."

Harry, astounded at this unexpected twist, could only peer at Kiana through wide eyes. She hung her head in helpless submission, a gesture Harry couldn't stand.

"Surely this situation can be set right!" Harry blurted out. "If Kiana is hidden as safely as possible, no one would notice if I…"

Dumbledore shook his head fiercely, cutting off Harry's stammering. "Harry, you know I am right. This situation is one of the most perilous I've ever witnessed, and one small slip-up could mean death for both of you. Now do you both want to take the chance of Voldemort finding you? Or would you rather obey me from the start?"

Kiana crumbled against Harry, burying her face into his shoulder. The couple's silent grief was answer enough for Dumbledore.

"I do not wish to extend this conversation further," Dumbledore said softly. "But there are a few more points to discuss. Professor Snape, you will be thankful to hear, Kiana, will not know of your new whereabouts. Although my trust in him is not the issue here, he is too close to Voldemort at this time. I do not want Severus burdened by yet another dangerous secret.

"Keep a close eye on your Dark Mark, Kiana. The pain it gives you will be a warning that Voldemort is close by. If you suspect him advancing upon your destination, have your surrogate parents message me by patronus, and you will be swiftly moved to another location. I will be in contact with you regularly, even if everything is going well. Let us just pray that Voldemort's reign will not last much longer. Then you both shall finally be free."

It seemed that they listened to Dumbledore's dreadful, life-shattering news for hours, but within only a short time, everything was set. Kiana's move-in date was planned for the next day, with Harry's first visit scheduled for the following week. Harry was helping Kiana to the door – she was suddenly very weak – when Dumbledore unexpectedly stopped him.

"Harry, I need a word alone with you, if you don't mind. It's of the utmost importance; otherwise I wouldn't dare burden you further."

Kiana glanced from Harry to Dumbledore with wide, petrified eyes, but Harry embraced her tightly and whispered, "Don't worry; it can't be anything worse than what we've heard."

Therefore, Kiana reluctantly waited outside Dumbledore's door as Harry approached the Headmaster's desk once more with numbness penetrating his mind and body. He didn't know how much more he could handle without going mad…

"Harry? What's the matter?"

Harry jerked and found Kiana staring up at him with curiosity and a bit of fear.

Harry pushed the memories from his mind and tried to smile. "It's nothing, love. I'm just finding it difficult to sleep tonight. Must be all the caffeine I ingested at the match."

Kiana frowned, doubt flickering across her face, but she sighed and nestled back into his arms. "That is just another reason why football matches are…"

Harry chuckled and placed his hand over her mouth playfully. "Stop it, Kiana; I can't take another criticism of football! You've injured my soul too much today."

Kiana pushed his hand away with a grin. "If your soul survives solely on the winning goals of your favorite team, then you have no chance for immortality in the otherworld."

Harry sighed in defeat and told her to go back to sleep. Kiana fell back into her dreams rather quickly, but Harry's mind was wide awake and drifting through memory after memory. As his mind ultimately came to rest on the Ministry proceedings the day of the wedding – his own wedding he had almost never arrived at – a sickening sensation crept up his stomach. He had previously judged the meeting as an overreaction and even irrational. But now, as he watched his wife once more tense in her sleep, her eyes squeezed shut and fists clenched as if in pain, he knew he should've told her long ago what had kept him away at the Ministry that fateful day.


	3. A Clouded Mind

Chapter Three: A Clouded Mind

A woman should, I think, love her husband better than anything on earth except her own soul, which I think a man should respect above everything on earth but his own soul; and there my dear is a very pretty puzzle for you, which a good many people have failed to solve.

**- ****Fanny Kemble (1809-1893)**

**English Actress**

Harry would never forget the first time he visited Kiana's new home in Chorleywood, Hertfordshire. Dumbledore, keeping to his word, had not given him visitation rights until more than a week after Kiana had moved in. ("Besides her own safety, I'm keeping you away because she needs time to adjust," Dumbledore had told him with severity. "She needs to be able to survive on her own without clinging onto you. You must return to Hogwarts and your classes without her, after all.")

That whole week without a single thread of communication between them was one of the most difficult periods of Harry's life. He knew it had not been any easier for Kiana when he arrived at her surrogate parents' doorstep that cool Saturday morn.

"Kiana, you have a visitor."

She processed down the staircase slowly, tentatively, with a guarded expression. Even when she noticed him standing in the doorway, she did not completely lose her tension. She looked at him through dull eyes, and slowly – so unbearably slowly – approached Harry and fell into his arms. She buried her face into his chest, and her whole body shook as she struggled to contain her sobs.

Harry would never remember how long they remained that way, clutching each other fiercely in silent anguish. But his physical presence calmed Kiana immensely, and he refused from that moment on to remain disconnected from her life as they both tried to adjust to the new reality. Much to Dumbledore's displeasure, up until Harry returned to Hogwarts for the spring term, neither one spent a night alone.

"So how's married life treating you?"

Kiana switched the phone to her right ear as she grabbed a steaming piece of toast out of the toaster. "Oh, just perfectly! We went on a cruise last week and ate supper under a glorious sunset…"

Jenny huffed on the other line. "Who cares about that! How's your sex life? How is Harry in bed?"

Kiana threw her head back and laughed. "Jennifer Simonson, that is none of your business! What happened to your manners?"  
"I think they got lost back in England, ironically. I miss you, girl! I wish I could've made it to the wedding, and so do the rest of my obnoxious siblings."

Kiana struggled to hold the phone against her shoulder as she buttered her toast. "I'm sorry, but it would've been too expensive to bring so many of my friends and family to England. That's why in a month or so we're having a reception in Minneapolis, remember?"

"Yeah, I remember. I already picked out your present; you're gonna love it!"

"If it's anything dirty, you'd better bring the receipt."

"How'd you know? Did Michelle tell you?" Jenny sounded offended even through the static-filled line.

Kiana chuckled as she grabbed jam from the fridge. "No, Jennifer, I just know _that _part of your mind all too well. Look, I gotta go; I have an interview at the Ministry in an hour. I'm traveling by car because the Ministry asked me to arrive by the visitors' telephone booth instead of by Flu Powder. Harry's driving me because I hate…"  
"Driving in England. Yeah, Michelle told me," Jenny interrupted. "You'd better get used to it if you're going to be living there forever! It's not that hard to get a new driver's license, right?"

Kiana sighed dramatically. "I'll get to it…eventually. Okay, Jenny; get some sleep! It's not even dawn there, right?"

"You know I gave up sleep years ago. It's such a time waster."

Kiana rolled her eyes with a smile. "Jennifer, you never change. Okay, I love you and I'll talk to you soon."

"'Bye, Kiana. I'll tell Michelle and the rest that you called."

"Thanks a lot. Have a great morning…night, whatever you prefer. Talk to you later."

Kiana was halfway out the door when Harry appeared at the bottom of the staircase. Since they'd be traveling through Muggle London, Harry sported a simple pair of jeans and a maroon polo shirt. Kiana knew he had concealed his Ministry robes in the carrying bag slung over his shoulder. He took one look at Kiana's rumpled Muggle clothing and chuckled.

"Sleep in again this morning, Kiana?"

Kiana shrugged nonchalantly while chewing on her toast. "You know I'm not a morning person. You'll be proud to learn, though, that I only hit my snooze button five times today!"

"Progress is good," Harry told her with a smile. "But I don't want my wife to show up at the Ministry looking like she's wearing her pajamas." Grabbing his wand, he steamed her clothes until not a wrinkle remained in the fabric.

"I was getting to that," Kiana muttered.

Harry kissed her cheek with another chuckle. "Sure you were. Now let's go before you miss the interview altogether."

He was somber that morning; that much was obvious from the moment he started the car. Kiana watched his face carefully, momentarily forgetting her nerves about the upcoming interview.

"Harry, did something happen?"

He cracked a small smile, glancing at her once before returning his eyes to the road. "You always read me too well, Kiana," he murmured.

"So something _did _happen."

"No, nothing happened," he countered quickly. But his smile vanished and his face became tense, telling Kiana the exact opposite.

She frowned and crossed her arms in irritation. "Harry, you know how much I _hate _you being secretive, especially about something that makes you unhappy. You know I'll be pondering over the reason _all day…_"

"Don't do that; you need to focus on your interview! How many times have you explained how wonderful life would be if you got this job at the Department of International Magical Cooperation?"

"Yes, yes; we all know how I've longed for such an authoritative, life-changing position like one at the International Magical Office of Law. Then the Minister of Magic would soon appoint me to the International Confederation of Wizards, and we'd need two Gringotts vaults to hold all the money," Kiana droned on, her tone permeated with sarcasm as she listed off her dreams. "But jobs aren't important when…"

"I'll tell you tonight," Harry interjected, his eyes strangely dull. "I'll explain it all, as long as you forget my problems now and focus on doing well with Mr. Vanderheiden."

"Fine," Kiana replied after a moment. "And I don't want to hear you say 'I'm tired; I'll talk to you tomorrow.' I can hear you telling me that even now!"

Harry rolled his eyes at her, but Kiana noticed that his actions seemed more forced than usual. Kiana pursed her lips and fought the urge to continue badgering him.

But after they arrived at the telephone booth in downtown London, Kiana relented and allowed the silence to linger. Harry was back inside his head, not glancing at her once as they took the Ministry telephone booth down underground.

She was almost glad to depart from him when they reached Level Five where the Department of International Magical Cooperation was located. Harry kissed her and wished her good luck before departing for the Auror station. He would probably be there until late evening – being an Auror-in-Training was not for the faint of heart. But his job and dedication were some of the things Kiana most admired and loved about her husband.

One day, Kiana hoped to rise to that same level of professionalism. She wanted to be treated with a respect and awe completely unlike the usual stares and whispers she received from being "Harry Potter's wife."

_That's what today is for, _she thought as she gave her name to the receptionist. _If I get this dream job, England will know me as Kiana Potter, holder of one of the British Seats on the International Confederation of Wizards. Being Harry Potter's wife will no longer be a label worth gossiping over. _

_ I'll be my own woman. _

Harry Potter had never done as poorly in his warm-up skill training as that morning.

"Potter!" Miles Heckman barked from a corner of the dark, enclosed room. "Where's your head at this morning? Are you daydreaming like a school boy?"

"No, Sir," Harry remarked evenly, aiming his wand at the next metal opponent. "I just…"

"No excuses! There are no excuses for poor performance. A Dark wizard is not going to save your skin because you stuttered out an apology like a misbehaving child. One wrong move and you're dead, Potter!"

"I understand, Sir. I'm sorry, Sir."

Even in the dim room, Harry noticed the Skills master lean against the wall and rub his smooth, bald head. "Don't do it again. It's only eight in the bloody morning, too! God, this is going to be a long day…Jameson, is that how Aurors par? Why, you look like a frightened five-year-old Muggle! Let me show you how it's done…"

As Miles moved down the room to scrutinize another Auror-in-Training, Harry tried fiercely to block his mind from all other thoughts and emotions. But it felt a lot like trying to accomplish Occlumency in Snape's dismal office – near impossible.

As the Dark wizard robot in front of him nearly knocked him off his feet for the third time, Harry almost admitted defeat. He could never practice like this when his mind was panicked and frazzled. At that moment, he was trapped in the conversation with Dumbledore he had participated in after learning of Kiana's future. Kiana had waited outside the office door, trying and failing to catch a word either one spoke.

But Dumbledore and Harry both knew that it would destroy her if she ever discovered the life-changing topic spoken that night.

"What did you wish to say that couldn't be spoken about in front of Kiana?"

Dumbledore glanced up at him serenely; almost too serenely.

"Harry, I'm guessing that you've held the conviction in your mind since you were eleven that I know about every magical occurrence in our world. Every spell, every potion, every…connection."

Harry studied him quizzically from his hovered position over the Headmaster's desk.

"Well, you were wrong," Dumbledore said to Harry's unspoken reply. "I thought I did, mind, but I was wrong. Something occurred between you and Kiana on Christmas Eve that I've never witnessed before in my long days on Earth."

Harry waited, hesitant, frozen, but Dumbledore did not finish.

"And what would that be, Sir?" Harry prodded him.

Dumbledore studied his intertwined fingers, a habit of his he undertook whenever, it seemed, he felt uncomfortable.

"A very rare magical connection that is formed, I am convinced, by the equal love shared by two people. And no, this is entirely unlike the love of your mother's that protected you from death."

Harry sat down slowly, keeping his eyes locked on Dumbledore's. He didn't let any emotion sink in yet. He wouldn't let himself feel anything until he had heard all of it…good and bad.

"Harry, have you ever noticed some…odd, perhaps foreign, emotions and thoughts enter your head?" Dumbledore scanned him like an x-ray, making Harry feel particularly vulnerable. "Different from emotions you know are associated with Voldemort, of course. Has anything unusual occurred within you recently?"

Harry paused, destroying the barrier around his mind and heart for a moment to consider Dumbledore's words.

"Well, there have been times…times when I…what are you on about?"

Dumbledore smiled at his obvious hesitation to speak the truth. "The thoughts and emotions that you've been experiencing – the ones you know for a fact aren't your own – are no one else's but Kiana's."

It was a long time before Harry could speak again. "You mean I…can read her mind? Like Legilimency?"

"Not quite like that," Dumbledore replied hastily. "You're doing this unconsciously and without any skill. No, I believe this connection exists between you and her because of what occurred that horrendous night with Voldemort. You both willingly suffered for the other; you both loved unselfishly and equally. Unfortunately, that kind of love is quite rare. And since neither of you turned away from the other's love, an incredibly powerful connection between your souls has formed. Something has been created that even I cannot easily explain."

Dumbledore barely let this settle into Harry's mind before continuing. "This is different from the connection you have with Voldemort, Harry. If I may say so bluntly, because you possess undying and unchanging love for Kiana, you are experiencing a good amount of her emotions, thoughts and sensations to an uncanny extent."

Harry inhaled deeply, feeling his heart beat wildly in his chest. "Does that mean…"

"Yes, Harry. That also means you'll experience her pain, although the intensity of that pain will vary from time to time. I must ask you, though, not to mention a _word _of this to Kiana. She'd be horrified to know that you share her experiences, and she would perhaps even avoid situations in case she got hurt, for it would then hurt you. But this connection isn't shared equally between you both – only you can sense her emotions and know her thoughts, but she cannot do the same with you."

Something finally clicked in his mind and everything he was being told was anything but strange – it was reality. "I'm glad for that," Harry responded. "I'd suffer for or with her any day, but I'm glad the situation isn't reversed. She doesn't need to be burdened with anything that…I'm burdened with."

Dumbledore suddenly appeared concerned. "Harry, I don't think you realize the seriousness of what I'm telling you. If something happens to Kiana, if she is mortally injured, you would more than likely die with her."

No fear or dismay flickered across Harry's face. He remained confident, serious, if also tense in his chair. "Only the better, Professor. If Kiana dies, I don't know how I'd be able to live without her."

Dumbledore sighed wearily. "Very well. But promise me you'll take extra care to keep Kiana out of danger. Both your lives depend on it."

Harry nodded with resolve. "I'll protect her with my life. You have my word."

Kiana had anxiously awaited her husband all evening. She had paced the sitting room so many times that her feet made indentations in the carpet. She cooked supper for herself around five o'clock (placing an extra portion for Harry in the fridge), and had promptly begun her pacing after that.

It was now nine o'clock, and no sign of life from Harry had been reported. No phone call, no owl, no anything. If Harry was going to be delayed at the Ministry, he always called.

Always. No exceptions.

She had rung his cell phone about a dozen times by ten o'clock, with the only reply being his voice mail. By ten-thirty, she longed to fill up his phone with a few well-chosen curse words and threats.

By eleven at night, she had fallen asleep on the couch, her phone open across her stomach.

The soft click of the front door awoke her like a gun shot.

Still fuzzy from sleep, Kiana only managed to properly glare at him as Harry entered the house. His face was drawn, his eyes distinctly red from exhaustion, and he still wore his Ministry robes.

"I know, I know," Harry said, holding up his hands. "I deserve to be shot, but this is only proof of how you should never underestimate the wrath of Miles Heckman."

Rubbing her eyes, Kiana slowly rose from the couch and approached him. "What did he make you do?"

Harry groaned at the memory. "He only made me redo my Skill warm-ups fifty times until I had blasted every entity in that room. I was about to faint from exhaustion by nine o'clock, but he was determined to have me make up for my apparent failures this morning."

"Failures? How could you _fail_? You're so damn good!"

Harry smiled self-consciously. "Not in comparison to 'every single other bloody Auror-in-Training' as I was told. Other instructors would have judged my behavior this morning as simple miscalculations because of a 'bad day,' but not Miles. One bad day to him is like asking the Grim Reaper to meet you on the street outside the Ministry. He believes bad days only escalate and dampen an Auror's strength."

Kiana shook her head in indignation. "That's crap, Harry; you know that's complete crap! You're human, aren't you? Don't let that man's words get to your head. You're stronger than that."

Forgetting her anger at his lateness, Kiana longingly went into his arms and kissed him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she soaked in every taste and smell of him until she forgot everything else.

When they ultimately broke apart, Harry smiled at her sadly and whispered, "You're going to kill me. I sense it, but…"

"I'll forgive you if you'll just admit I was right."

Harry groaned, but Kiana knew it was in good humor. "Okay, fine. Kiana Potter, you were right that I'd say I was too tired to speak to you tonight. I promise I'll talk to you about my issues tomorrow."

Kiana raised her eyebrows in disbelief. "You _promise? _Why do I find that…"

"I promise," he interrupted, unexpectedly scooping her off her feet and carrying her toward the stairs. "Now can we go to bed? I'm half asleep already."

Kiana nestled against his chest, not knowing how she could ever be angry at him. "I guess I'm going to bed with you whether I want to or not."

"You're right about that. I'm not sleeping alone tonight."

"Even after what you put me through?"

"Yes. I'm going to be completely selfish."

Kiana smiled as he set her in their bed and wrapped the covers around her. "Then you need to be selfish more often," she told him.


	4. Unfixed and Indestructible

Chapter Four: Unfixed and Indestructible

Perhaps the feelings that we experience when we are in love represent a normal state. Being in love shows a person who he should be.

**Anton Chekhov**** (1860 - 1904)**

**Snape's quote is from **_**Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, **_**UK Adult edition p.212**

It seemed to Kiana that she had slept alone all night, but she later discovered that Harry had spent only a few hours with her in bed. He had risen with the sun, leaving her to wake in her own time.

She entered the kitchen dreary-eyed to find Harry staring intently out at the garden, coffee cup clutched in both hands. Kiana studied his tight face until he turned around and his smile destroyed all previous stress.

But Kiana knew he had forced the peace into his eyes. "Why are you doing this to me, Harry?" she muttered, rubbing her hands across her face. "You'd better just tell me the news now to save me additional anxiety. You owe me that, at least."

Harry seemed to have tuned out part of her words. He had pulled on his leather jacket and grabbed his wallet by the time she had finished.

"Where _are _you going?" she questioned indignantly. "It's eight a.m. on a Saturday!"

Harry's eyes gleamed mysteriously as he twirled the car keys between his fingers. "_We're _going for a ride. I don't care where; you can drive to Wales if it suits you, but I want to get far away from here."

Kiana raised her eyebrows high and let out a choked laugh. "Um, my head must be fuzzy because I swear I heard you say 'you can drive'…"

Harry responded by throwing her the car keys. "You're as awake as possible, Kiana. And you'll need to be if you don't want us to roll into a ditch."

Kiana clutched the metal keys with a stern, almost uncomprehending look at her husband. "Harry James Potter, you've officially gone off the deep end."

Harry chuckled as he pulled her toward the stairs. "_My _head has been clear for hours, despite how little I slept. Now, I'll zap together some breakfast while you get dressed. I want you in the car in ten minutes. No, let me rephrase that…I want you in the car, in the _driver's seat _in ten minutes. And the longer you complain, the longer I'll make you drive."

Kiana hoped her glare was the foulest, evilest glare she had ever sent him. She doubted it was, however, because the longer she glared, the wider his impish grin became.

"Tell me again why I married you?" she asked.

"Because you found me sensitive, creative, and, most of all, adventurous," Harry replied. There was a deep caress to his voice which Kiana discovered she despised. "Now hurry up before we lose time to eat."

Harry was a rigid taskmaster, no doubt a skill he had picked up from his Auror training. Kiana couldn't even push it to eleven minutes before she was hauled into the right-hand side of the car.

Harry, for the first time in the passenger seat, stretched his arms behind his head lazily and closed his eyes. "Okay, you know how to start a car. Just watch the curb on your way down."

Kiana clutched the steering wheel with rigid anger. She couldn't look Harry in the eye as she hissed, "Apparently you have an intense wish to die at my hand, Potter, especially since you're _closing your eyes!_ Or perhaps the truth is that you've secretly been trying to murder me for weeks, and now you've finally discovered an easy way to make it look like an accident. You do realize I've never even sat in this seat before…"

"I heard from Michelle that you're a perfect driver in America, so why is this so different? Everything is simply…"

"Turned around!" Kiana almost screamed. "I won't even make it to the highway before I turn into an oncoming car. If I _wished _to drive on the left-hand side of the road – which, if you weren't aware, I _don't_ – I'd have to draw myself a billion diagrams with arrows before attempting any route."

Harry groaned, his eyes still firmly shut. "Has anyone told you that you stress over everything? I'm not asking for perfection here."

"If by perfection you mean staying on the correct side of the road," she muttered icily.

"Start the car already, Kiana, before I do it for you."

Kiana obeyed, although she noticed her hands were beginning to shake. The engine roared to life, vibrating the steering wheel. Kiana muttered a quick prayer before sliding the car into reverse and turning around to watch for oncoming cars.

Kiana's biggest problem was not _getting_ onto the road but avoiding the neighbors' cars. Kiana had never bothered to notice until now that multiple parked cars created a dangerously small street.

Harry opened his eyes a slit once Kiana cautiously made her way down the road. "Is there a particular reason why we're going twenty kilometers an hour?"

Kiana chanced another glare at him. "By all means I can speed if you wish to hasten your death. I, for one, thought I'd live a few more days. And by the way, I hope you know that I have no idea where we're headed. Since I prefer to travel by bus, I'm not used to memorizing my routes."

"I know every street in Fulham and London," Harry gloated with a shrug. "I'll know where we are if you hit a dead end."

This did nothing to alleviate her fears. Kiana decided that talking only distracted her, so she instead concentrated hard on which lane to turn into whenever a turn was necessary. She tried to breathe and relax a little in her seat, but she remained upright and tense throughout the "experience."

It did not take long before her head ached from squinting hard at the road. They had been traveling for a good ten minutes, and so far neither one was dead or tragically crippled. Kiana took this as a good sign and leaned back in her seat.

"There, see? It's not so hard."

Kiana frowned. "I recall you exerting that same confidence at Hogwarts when you first taught me to fly. And remember what happened then? Only a dangerous crash into a Quidditch hoop and a painful fall from an insensitive tree."

Harry shook his head with a smile. "You're just overly prone to accidents, Kiana. It's in your nature to find trouble."

"Let's not create a new label for me, please," she muttered under her breath. As she entered a roundabout, Kiana's mind left the road for a moment as she recalled the terrifying yet exhilarating experience of a first-time broomstick flight. The rush of wind in her ears, the weightless sensation of hovering dozens of feet off the ground, the release of all negative emotions as she flew around the field at an alarming speed…

"_Kiana!" _

Her heart jumped painfully in her chest as she spotted the headlights of a grey car racing straight at her. Her hands froze as shock numbed her body, causing Harry to reach across and yank the wheel sharply to the left.

They missed the car by a few feet, the vehicle zooming by in a dizzying blur. The blaring of its horn echoed in Kiana's ears long after the car had passed them by.

Kiana pulled the car into a school lot and leaned her forehead against the wheel, her breath still coming in uneven gasps.

"Where _was _your mind?" Harry cried after they both had calmed some. "You did perfectly until that roundabout. You pulled into the…"

"Right lane, yeah; I knew that was inevitable."

Harry's stern eyes never seemed to blink. "Rubbish! You knew what you were doing; you just lost concentration. I thought you had it down!"

Kiana shook her head with increasing aggravation. How could she have been so _stupid? _Her confidence had overcome her, and she had tricked herself into believing she could handle a short wandering of the mind. That one mistake had almost cost her and Harry their lives!

"Look, I shouldn't have yelled," Harry said softly, observing her exasperation. "It was an…expected mistake."

"A mistake I was trying to avoid all along!" Kiana shot back. "Do you now see why I was so terrified of driving in the first place?"

"Don't you dare blame me; I see that's where your mind is going! You sorely _needed _to learn to drive at one time or another. I was trying to help you dissolve your overwhelming fears! And you will not give up now, Kiana; are you listening to me? You made this mistake once, so you won't make it again. I want you to drive back home. I'll point out the way."

"Harry, please!" The desperate look she passed him almost made him cave in, she noticed, but then his face tightened with resolve.

"No, you will learn to do this right," he told her. "Now pull back out and don't let your mind wander again. This'll become easier the more times you do it."

Kiana almost refused to move, but her mind told her quietly that he was right. She couldn't avoid driving forever; the more days she spent in England proved that. It was like the saying she had been told countless times by her parents – if you fall off a bike, there's nothing to do but get back on again. You can't let fear control your life.

_I'd like fear to control this, _she thought angrily as she carefully pulled back into the correct lane. _There's nothing wrong with taking the Tube the rest of my life. _

Kiana focused so hard on the road that her migraine came back, but she did not mess up a single turn. They arrived back home in one piece. The car, miraculously, did not have a dent or scratch on it.

"That's the last adventure I take with you for the rest of the year," Kiana told him as she gratefully unbuckled and leapt out of the car. "You always wish to worsen a perfectly acceptable situation."

"I see nothing acceptable about you taking the bus when we have two cars!" Harry tossed back, slugging her playfully on the shoulder. "Maybe you'll actually put some kilometers on it now."

"Well, we both learned something new at least."

"Besides the fact that your fears lead to nothing but…"

"No!" she interrupted. "We've learned that if someone calls you to announce my death, you won't need to ask how I died. And you thought _you_ were in a dangerous situation being an Auror - I'm a reckless driver!"

Harry rolled his eyes as he placed an arm around her hip. "Stop blowing everything out of proportion. Next time we'll simply practice in the country. At least then the worst you can do is hit a few cows."

Harry didn't give in until almost midnight. The moment their adventurous car trip had ended, Kiana began to badger him about revealing his deep secrets. The hidden information was something unpleasant – Kiana could tell by the way he struggled to even begin.

"Harry, it can't be that bad!" Kiana protested after watching her husband pace the sitting room for several minutes. She leaned back against the couch and twitched her leg in impatience. "What kind of information would stress you out like this?"

Harry halted mid-step. His face, she noticed, was getting paler by the second. "I wish it was that easy," he murmured almost incoherently. "You don't understand what kind of pressure I've been under."

"Is it something about work? About our financial situation? Did something…"

"No, no! It's nothing to do with any of that!"

"Then what is it?" Kiana's voice rose in response to her husband's irksome behavior. "It won't seem so bad once you actually get it out."

Harry reluctantly sat down on the rocking chair by the window. He peered out absently at the black world beyond. His eyes scanned the star-strewed sky as if he wished he were above the earth instead of on it.

Kiana's anxious gaze pressured him until he sighed and began in a low, thick voice. "The day of our wedding, the Department of Magical Law Enforcement called an emergency meeting. All Aurors and major leaders of the Ministry were in attendance, and since I have minor standing within the Ministry, I was shocked to find myself compelled to attend. However, it turned out…that I was called because of my experience with Voldemort."

Kiana sat up straighter in surprise. "You mean there's another Dark wizard out there that they need…"

"Let me finish, Kiana."

Kiana dropped back against the couch and folded her arms, a little stung at the severity of his words.

Harry sighed and rubbed the back of his head, a motion he made whenever he experienced pressure or anxiety. "The meeting was not surrounding a new Dark wizard or someone the Ministry had concerns about. Our talk revolved around an event that occurred at twilight about a week before our marriage. A young boy had been burying his dead cat under a strange archway when the stone began to glow with astonishing power…at least, that's what the boy stated. Authorities questioned the account of an eleven-year-old, but when they traveled to the site and observed the arch itself, they somehow decided to take the boy's story seriously. I dunno exactly what convinced them, but it had something to do with his cat."

Kiana raised her eyebrows but didn't interrupt.

Harry gazed out the window again with intense concentration. His face was relaxed, but the rest of his body remained bowed and tense. "The Ministry has reasonable evidence that the boy's cat, although deceased at the time of the burial, was brought back to life after being placed under the arch. After further prodding, the boy admitted that just before the cat awakened, he had cut his hand on a stone and his blood had dripped under the arch. The Ministry officials believe that the blood is somehow crucial to the…awakening of the arch."

Kiana studied him thoughtfully, unable to comprehend the meaning behind these apparently significant words. "So…the Ministry found a magical archway that can bring animals back to life."

Her dubious tone caused Harry to turn toward her and give her one of his take-me-seriously glares. "Not just animals, Kiana. The Ministry has reason to believe that it can also bring people back to life…in a way."

Kiana rubbed her hands across her face. "Now you've lost me."

Harry rose to sit beside her on the couch, and he took her hands in his. "Listen to me, Kiana; it's crucial you understand. If this arch is what we believe it to be, then our world is in danger. The officials believe – and I'm in support of this idea – that the archway is a connecting portal to the Veil in the Department of Mysteries. It can allow the dead to pass through to our world and walk among us, although we're unsure exactly what kind of being they become after leaving the world of the dead.

"But the Ministry was able to close the portal soon after it was discovered. No souls are able to pass through any longer, but during the time it was open…" Harry sighed again, glancing down at their entwined hands. "Some souls may have escaped. Souls that…we may both know."

Kiana slowly shook her head, her mind and body stiff as if a body-binding curse had been cast upon her. "You throw this at me like I'm going to accept it instantly as the truth. I don't believe what they're saying, Harry – the Veil doesn't have another _portal _or door. The exact function of the Veil is still disputed about, so how can they come up with such a definitive answer about this arch now? And what the hell do you mean when you say that 'we may know' some of the souls?"

It annoyed her that he wouldn't meet her eyes. He lowered his head and replied quietly, "Some believe that souls anxious for release have escaped the Veil. Souls that were powerful in life and still seek what the living world has. Souls which are anxious for vengeance…souls like Voldemort."

Kiana's breath caught in her throat, and she shook her head again. "Sorry, I think I misheard you. You mean souls _like _Voldemort but not _the _Voldemort! He can't possibly return because…because…damn it, Harry; don't scare me like this!"

Harry looked up at her, his pale face torn with distress. "There's no proof, but we have to look into every possibility. I'm telling you this because I want you to keep an eye out for anything unusual around you. If something happens to your Mark that is abnormal, or if you see someone who…" He swallowed hard and tightened his grip on her hand. "I'm just taking a lot of precautions, love. I didn't mean to scare you, but the issue has to be taken seriously. I have every hope that this'll all die down and nothing will change. But as an Auror-in-Training, I have the duty to…"

"I understand. Fine." Kiana pulled her hand from his and twisted her body away. "I'll keep an eye out for anything unusual."

"Kiana…" Harry spoke sympathetically, reaching an arm out to her.

"No, I'm fine, Harry," she replied a little too sharply. She rose and wrapped her arms around herself to hide her anxious twitching. "I just need to process this, that's all. I'll be fine…I need to sleep now. It's late."

"Kiana, please." Harry rose and called out anxiously. "I can't let you leave feeling like you do."

Kiana's heart ached for him, but for some reason she felt that, this once, his arms could not protect her from the world. She had to handle the facts on her own.

"I'll be _fine_, Harry!" she repeated, holding up her hands in aggravation. "Sometimes the best way to cope is by yourself! I need to go to bed…"

And as Harry watched his wife run up the staircase to their bedroom, the unexpected voice of Snape entered his mind, and he shivered. The words spoken his sixth year now seemed like a forewarning, chilling his body like nothing before had.

_"The Dark Arts are many, varied, ever-changing and eternal. Fighting them is like fighting a many-headed monster, which, each time a neck is severed, sprouts a head even fiercer and cleverer than before. You are fighting that which is unfixed, mutating, indestructible."_

The words replayed over and over in Harry's mind that night, and he found that even sleep could not release him from his distress.


	5. Last Moments of Peace

Chapter Five: Last Moments of Peace

"To fall in love is easy, even to remain in it is not difficult; our human loneliness is cause enough. But it is a hard quest worth making to find a comrade through whose steady presence one becomes steadily the person one desires to be."

**Anna Louise Strong**

Love never asks how much must I do,

But how much can I do.

**Frederick A. Agar**

"I need your help."

"Anything, Harry. What is it? You sound worried."

Harry tousled his thick black hair with one hand as he held his mobile closer to his ear. "You know the situation at the Ministry? Well, I told Kiana a few days ago, and she hasn't taken it very well."

"Understandable." Hermione's compassionate tone comforted Harry's anxious, racing mind. "Voldemort _does _have similar negative connotations for her as he does for you."

"Yeah, but I'm actually able to make it through the day," Harry muttered. "Kiana seems to be walking on egg shells during the day and is exhausted by evening. She got that job at the Ministry, by the way; did you hear?"

"Ron mentioned seeing her at the Ministry earlier this week. Tell her I send my congratulations."

"I will, thanks. She's thrilled…well, at least at first she was. Now she's using work as an excuse to wear herself out. She doesn't stay up and talk to me at night anymore; she's too tired. But I know it's the strain of being on guard all day that tires her. For me at least, I become more relaxed the more days that pass by without a catastrophe. For Kiana, she's still waiting for that first disaster…the one that changes everything."

"Have you talked to her about it? Tried to calm her fears?"

"Every night!" Harry banged open the kitchen cabinets with more force than necessary. "But she always interrupts, saying things like, 'I'm fine, Harry; I'm not constantly stressed out!' and 'I'm just trying to get used to my new job. I am not preoccupied with thoughts of that Ministry situation.' Yeah, that's how she says it: _that _Ministry situation, like it means nothing to her. You have no idea how frustrating it is for me to…"

"Calm down, Harry; the whole neighborhood can hear you!" Hermione demanded.

Harry groaned and rested his forehead against the cool wood of the cabinet. "Well, now you know my desperation."

Harry heard her huff disdainfully. "I don't like the sound of this. I hope you're not planning on doing anything illegal. You're an Auror-in-Training now! You have to pay more respect to the Ministry's laws."

Harry smirked and twisted around to lean against the fridge. "You know I haven't spoken a word of what I'm planning?"

"Sorry. I just know you too well."

"It's nothing illegal. Just something that will make Kiana's life easier for now."

"Do I dare ask what it is?" Harry noticed the warning in her voice.

"A simple sleeping draft that will produce good dreams," Harry explained. "She's been having far too many nightmares lately, and perhaps if she sleeps better she'll have better days. But I'm rubbish at potions, as you well know. So I was wondering…"

"I don't know much about sleeping drafts," Hermione stated quickly. "But I can try, I guess. I don't like you spiking her drink with potion though, Harry. I assume you'll be doing it without her consent."

"You know she'd never take the draft herself," Harry defended. "She's still trying to convince me that she's having no problems in life whatsoever, during sleep or during the day. I'm helping her when she refuses to help herself."

Hermione groaned. "Fine, okay. I'll make a week's worth of the draft, but no more than that! If you want more, you'll have to get her permission first. Better yet, have _her _make the potion! She's decent at potions, I remember."

Harry hung up feeling only partially confident that Hermione would follow through. However, late that evening she arrived bearing a full vile of the potion.

"According to my textbook, only a small amount each night will suffice." Hermione indicated a few centimeters of potion with her thumb and forefinger. "So make sure not to overdo it. This should hopefully last a week. Do you remember my conditions?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I'll get her permission once the potion runs out. I really appreciate this, Hermione; I'll let you know if she responds positively to it."

Kiana arrived home an hour before midnight. Her eyes, Harry noticed, were bloodshot, and chunks of brown hair fell out of her bun and into her eyes. She pushed them aside with a slow, careful brush of her hand before she collapsed onto a kitchen chair.

"Another rough day?"

"Another rhetorical question?" Kiana sat up and managed a smile. "Yeah, it was rough. I don't know how _you're _still standing, seeing as Auror training is ten times more challenging than my office work. At least your work is active and exciting; I didn't realize how _dull _meetings and reports could be. Yeah, the stuff they talk about in the reports is semi-interesting, but I'd rather be in other countries working on solutions to international affairs than reading about them. I guess I have to work my way up the ladder to…what are we celebrating? We went out to dinner to celebrate my job a week ago."

Harry shrugged as he passed her a full glass of white wine and filled his own. "It helps me relax after a long day. So go on with what you're saying."

"No, I'm done." Kiana studied her husband thoughtfully. "I didn't think we owned a bottle of wine. All I see in this house is beer."

"And I am incapable of buying some?" Harry asked with a teasing smile. "I try to accommodate the drink needs of my wife, even if all you drink is girly fruit coolers and sweet wines."

Kiana shook her head in mock exasperation as she took a sip of her wine. Harry tried not to watch her drink, but his curiosity at how the potion would affect her made it difficult.

"It's…slightly tangy, but pretty good," Kiana commented after a moment. "I think I've had this wine before, but it tastes different tonight."

"Really?" Harry hoped he sounded surprised.

Kiana studied the glass in his hand. "You don't like it? I thought you only bought the kinds you like."

Harry glanced down at his full glass and quickly took a swig. "No, it's good. It's hard to adjust to, is all. My body's only used to a manly beer."

Kiana laughed, a scarce action nowadays. "I hate how everything in this world has to have female and male connotations." She opened her mouth to continue, but instead she groaned and leaned forward against the table, resting her head in her hands.

"Kiana? What's wrong?"

Kiana shook her head and placed a consoling hand on his shoulder as Harry knelt beside her. "No, it's nothing; I just got a little dizzy. I think my body's telling me to go to bed."

"I'll help you."

"No, that's not necessary…"

But before she could protest further, Harry had swept her off her feet and into his arms. Kiana's body instantly relaxed against his chest despite her weak attempts at breaking free.

"I thought you liked when I did this," Harry said as he carried her up the stairs.

"It makes me feel incapable of being independent," she murmured sleepily.

"Right now you _are _incapable, so just relax."

Kiana smiled as her eyelids drooped. "You treat me too well."

"It's in my job description. Hush now and sleep."

She was out by the time he laid her under the covers. Her body was limp in complete relaxation, and Harry contentedly watched her sleep. It was a rare occasion to see her face relaxed, her forehead smooth and lips curved in a slight smile. He watched her breath flow evenly in and out for several minutes before he settled into bed himself. He wrapped an arm around her waist and relaxed into the sweet warmth of her body.

_I should have given her the potion weeks ago, _he thought before sleep crept upon him, too.

Harry awoke around sunrise. Feeling strangely rejuvenated, he quietly got dressed and slipped out of the bedroom. Kiana still slept soundly, and he wished he could let her sleep all day, but that would be a bad start to the beginning of her career.

While pouring himself freshly brewed coffee, the squeak of footsteps a floor above made Harry glance upwards. He smiled when he realized he may see a brighter side of Kiana that day. If the potion worked its wonders, he could find himself living with a different woman…

"Good morning."

Harry's hand froze in the open drawer as his wife entered the room. It was only seven, but her black skirt was neatly pressed, her white blouse ironed, make-up applied evenly, and hair perfectly folded into a knot at the back of her neck.

Harry couldn't stop his grin from widening. "May I help you, Madam? I don't think you live here."

Kiana tossed a cloth napkin at him as she retrieved a plate and fork from the cabinet. "Hint to the wise: if you want to stay married to me, don't ever call me _madam_. It makes me sound like I'm fifty."

"I don't understand it," Harry continued, scratching his chin in puzzlement. "You're _cheery _this morning! Now that's not right…who would want to take Polyjuice to make Kiana a morning person?"

Kiana ignored his teasing easily as she popped waffles into the toaster. "I had the _best _dream last night." She smiled distractedly and played with the cuffs of her blouse.

"Oh really?" Harry pretended to appear only semi-interested as he scraped jam onto his toast. But when she didn't continue, he glanced up and said, "I presume it was about me."

"The dream? Actually, no."

His toast froze halfway to his mouth. "About what, then?"

Kiana smiled at the puzzlement in his voice. "Oh, just some tall, muscular boy with sexy bleach blond hair who made love to me in a field of flowers. Then he proposed to me and I had his…" She laughed again and stuck her tongue out at his appalled face. "Silly boy, of _course _it was about you! Who else would appear in my dreams that'd make me so happy?"

Harry scowled. "Draco Malfoy, it sounds like."

"_He _doesn't have gorgeous dimples like my man does. Or, at least not _as _gorgeous…Draco's were rather hypnotizing the last time I hooked up with him." She chuckled and kissed both of Harry's cheeks to take away his sour face. "You're kinda cute when you're jealous," she noticed.

"And you're kinda on house arrest if you mention Draco Malfoy again!" Harry retorted, flawlessly imitating Kiana's American accent. He smiled to let her know he was joking.

Kiana pursed her lips and drew back. "That's the last time I tell you about my dreams."

Harry chuckled. "I'm just glad you're having _good_ ones. It's impossible to be a morning person with constant nightmares."

Kiana nodded, though Harry noticed a darkness settle in her eyes. He chastised himself for bringing up her nightmares at all.

_Way to spoil the moment, Potter. _

"I should leave. I'm anxious to see the looks on my co-workers' faces when I show up early." She grabbed her waffles from the toaster and munched on one as she collected her purse and portfolio.

"You're forgetting something."

Kiana turned back on her way to the door. "What? Oh, sorry…" She ran back and kissed him lightly on the lips. "Have a good day, Harry."

Harry frowned. "That was a pathetic kiss; you owe me a better one when you get home."

Kiana smiled mischievously. "You'll get more than that after work. So save your energy."

Harry decided to give her the potion each night for the rest of her life.

Harry and Kiana both entered into their work day with optimism. Their diligent efforts in their responsibilities earned both of them positive remarks from their superiors.

Miles Heckman was especially pleased.

"Potter, where did this extensive energy and concentration come from? I've never seen you so accurate in your spell-casting!"

Harry tried not to grin with pride. "Today's just a better day for me, Sir."

"Then make _every _day like this, Potter. There are no 'good days' and 'bad days' in my book, only continuous hard work!"

Harry tried to remember the last time he had felt so accomplished. Besides their wedding day, the last would have had to been…

_Ah, yes, _he thought contentedly. _How could I forget the day that changed my world? Of all my silly dreams, I was surprised one had actually come true._

The same memory entered Kiana's mind later that day, keeping her spirits up. The memory played through her subconscious accurately, every word spoken that day echoing to her…

"I'm surprised you actually agreed to go to the park with me. Usually your idea of a Saturday evening is a concert or a bad action movie…"

"Bad?" Harry raised his eyebrows. "They're the best works of art in cinema! Better than your predictable romantic comedies at any rate."

Kiana slugged his shoulder playfully as they approached the incline of the hill. Once they had scaled it, Harry pulled a blanket from his bag and spread the thick material beside a large chestnut tree.

Kiana gazed at him with pleasant surprise. "What is all this?"

"Oh, don't think I don't know your secret, romantic desires," Harry replied as he revealed a picnic basket and bottle of wine. "Despite how cliché your wishes are, I'm determined to make this day exactly how you want it."  
Kiana's smile widened. "And what, may I ask, inspired you to do something so…un-Harry like?"

Harry used his wand to pop the cork before filling two crystal glasses with the scarlet wine. "Do you want a dull, ordinary birthday instead? Because by all means we can rent a film and eat crisps before turning in early."

Kiana laughed as she settled beside her boyfriend. "You're right; this is more special. And I really appreciate you working so hard to hide your masculinity."

Harry's green eyes glinted in the setting sun. "I _was _pondering bringing a TV set and watching the football match, but I'll give you leeway this once."

"How sweet of you." She leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek. He responded by pulling her closer and kissing her full on the lips. When they broke apart, Kiana felt her face flush.

"I was going to wait, but I think now is a good time." Harry stood and grabbed her hand, pulling her up beside him.

"You really _do _hate romantic picnics if we're done already," Kiana said, slightly disgruntled.

Harry just smiled. "Close your eyes and take my hand. We're taking a little trip before we eat."

Kiana furrowed her brow but did as she was told, closing her eyelids until all became dark. "Are we going to Disapparate? I hope you picked a secluded spot."

"Don't worry," came the reply. "I took all necessary precautions. Just don't peek, ok?"

The unpleasant, suffocating sensation of Apparition fell upon her, and she squeezed her eyes tighter. When she felt her feet hit solid ground, she opened her eyes a bit, but the sun's bright rays blinded her.

"What did I tell you? Keep your eyes shut."

Kiana groaned as Harry placed a hand over her eyes. The wind whipped the sharp scent of sea salt at her, and she smiled. "Harry, where are we?"

"It's difficult to surprise you as it is, so relax a moment!" The crinkling of paper reached her ears, and it was all she could do to keep from opening her eyes. Although they were not an everyday occurrence, she believed Harry's surprises were some of the most joyful moments in her life. She could only imagine what this one was all about.

The crash of waves echoed from a close distance, and Kiana knew without a doubt they were by an ocean. But which ocean, she couldn't guess.

"You can open your eyes now."

Slowly raising her eyelids, she found the sea sparkling under the setting sun. Seagulls' calls echoed across the slow waves, and Kiana smiled as she crept closer and dipped her toes in the cold surf.  
A ray of light flickered off a floating item in the water, and Kiana was about to complain about people's insensitive littering habits when she noticed it was a glass bottle.

"Look, Harry; a message in a bottle!" She grinned wider as she rushed into the waves and grabbed the bottle from the water. She studied the small paper inside with fascination. "I wonder if it's from an abandoned pirate ship..."

Harry didn't reply, but she felt him watching her carefully as she tipped the paper near the bottle's opening and dug it out with her fingers. It took a few moments, but at last she had the secret message in her hands.

"I'll return it to the sea as soon as I read it," she mumbled to herself. "Just in case it's..." She trailed off as she read the small, neat script: _Will you marry me? _

Kiana laughed and spun to face her boyfriend. "Harry, you'll never guess..." She froze when she noticed Harry kneeling a few feet from her on the sand, his hand holding something large and luminous encased in a velvet box.

Her hands flew to her mouth as she let out a shriek. Her head spun as she fully took in the sight before her.

"Oh my god, Harry…" she breathed. This could never happen to her; she must have fallen asleep during the picnic.

"I had to think of something original so you'd never guess it was coming," Harry told her with a smile. Kiana's eyes burned with oncoming tears as she stared deep into Harry's glistening eyes. "Every moment I'm with you strengths me and comforts me like nothing else in my life can. I am now living for no one else but you, and you'd be giving me the greatest gift in the world if you'd spend the rest of my life with me."

Kiana couldn't respond right away. Her throat swelled as large, wet tears fell onto her hands. Harry glanced up at her expectantly, and Kiana knew she had never seen such love portrayed to her. His eyes expressed the deepest, most sensitive emotions of his heart, and Kiana realized there was only one thing she could say.

"Of course I'll marry you," she whispered, her voice breaking. "You are my whole life."

His smile made her heart burn for him. Kiana held her breath as he approached her and placed the three-stone, round-cut diamond ring on her left ring finger. Then he took her into his arms and stared into her eyes but a moment before kissing her eagerly. Each of their tears intermingled as they kissed, but Kiana hardly noticed how her body responded to his touch. All that mattered was that Harry loved her and never wanted to let her go.

After the long work day, Kiana decided to take the Muggle route home instead of using the Flu Network. She enjoyed watching London commuters and other civilians rush about, everyone acting as if the city would blow up if they didn't arrive at their destination on time.

After buying a copy of _Hello! _magazine and flipping through it at the bus station, her mind wandered back to the day Harry proposed. All anxiety and fears had vanished from her world for at least a month after that; she had been floating on Cloud Nine every second of each day. And even with work and the stress of daily life, Kiana knew she hadn't made a mistake in marrying Harry. He was all she could ask for in a husband and best friend. She hoped he still felt the same way about her.

Her attention returned to the magazine as she descended from the bus and wandered through Fulham toward home. She focused on the pages, diverted from her walking path. It wasn't until after a few minutes of mindless traveling when she discovered she was no longer in Fulham.

Kiana stopped dead as she peered up at a giant archway, its frame a blinding blue. Her heart quickened painfully as she glanced with horror at her surroundings. How had she gotten here? No wrong turn would have brought her to such a desolate rural area.

A shadow crept upon her from the right. A shock ran through her as she spun to glimpse the approaching figure. The fight or flight instinct hit her, and she spun on her heel to bolt before she had observed the person fully. But luck was against her – she tripped on a rock and fell hard upon the stony ground. The figure was directly above her now, but the fading sun made it difficult to make him or her out. She squinted at the shadowed face.

"It's been a long time, Karn. Too long."

Kiana screamed. The voice was all too clear, all too familiar. The dark cloak around him brought a vivid recollection of her horrifying past, and her head spun sickeningly as he stared down at her.

Instantly, her Dark Mark scorched her skin, its bright green light accentuating the man's pale face. But the pain in her arm was secondary to the horror in her mind.

Severus Snape looked upon her frightened form and smiled.


	6. Risen From the Ashes

Chapter Six: Risen from the Ashes

Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect.

**Margaret Mitchell (1900-1949)**

**American Writer**

Kiana became paralyzed at his feet, her eyes wide and locked on his face. She studied him closely to determine whether he was merely a ghostly vision, but his body was too solid and formed to be an illusion. His eyes seemed to glow a deep red as he reached down and, in one fluid motion that knocked the breath from her body, grabbed her and threw her against the stone arch. Her back hit first, but her body's shock lessened the pain. Part of her mind screamed at her to defend herself, but her mind had shut down. To even speak would take effort.

Snape's bushy eyebrows furrowed as he grabbed her face with one hand and examined her closely. "You've lost the girlish features of your face. I almost didn't recognize you, but your eyes gave you away. They reveal too much, Karn. I preferred when they were deep and cold."

His nonchalant tone provoked hot rage within her, and Kiana hissed through her teeth before gathering strength and twisting away. But he already had the advantage, using but a single arm to force her back against the stone. His fingers tightened around her throat, and a hot flash of pain immobilized her. Her breath came painfully as she realized he was not using a wand but still had power under his fingertips. His being was whole and very human, but something dangerous emanated from him that chilled her.

Kiana forced her mouth to move. She prayed that her words came out forcefully and didn't betray her fear. "What are you?"

The merest trace of a smile flickered across his dark face. "A wizard more powerful than you dare believe. But I did not bring you here to boast and give a long-winded explanation of my return to the world. It is unfortunate that Potter's changed you back to being weak and vulnerable. How does anyone expect you to survive, Karn, when all my hard work to change you has vanished?"

In the past, Snape could effortlessly hit her sensitive areas, bringing out all her negative emotions. Nothing had changed now as she struggled in his dominating grip and glared up at him. "If you're referring to the spell you placed upon me while I worked beside the Death Eaters," she hissed. "Then you're thinking like Voldemort. Your curse only brought out the worst in me, making me pitiless and cruel. And by the way, since you were _dead _when the popular _Daily Prophet _article came out, you missed the important fact that I have since changed my last name."

Snape's eyes, as cold and blank as they ever were, did not let her own drift away. Kiana knew with a sinking sensation that he used Legilimency on her.

"You're unbelievably naïve if you thought the Dark Lord did not do all he could to discover what you and Potter have been up to. We merely waited until the opportune moment to let you know our presence."

Kiana winced as if he had struck her. Panic flooded her brain, and she gasped for air. "You…you're with…no, I don't believe you. It's not possible!" She screamed the last words, and Snape frowned in annoyance.

He grabbed her left arm and rubbed his thumb along her Dark Mark. Kiana bit down on her lip to hold back a scream. The blinding green light imprinted the Mark's image in her mind.

"Foolish girl," Snape muttered darkly. "Have you not noticed your Mark growing stronger in the past few weeks? Have you not questioned the possibility of the Dark Lord rising for the second time? You should've learned long ago that the Dark Arts is not easily explained or conquered. And with the help of a small, innocent Muggle boy, a few of us managed to come back to earth. Although there are far fewer Death Eaters than the Dark Lord wishes, there are enough to do him great service. But the one whom he truly longs for now is you."

The ache in her chest hit her so fiercely that she closed her eyes and tried to tune out everything around her. She pretended there was nothing but the comforting scents and sensations of her own home, and Harry would be arriving in bed shortly…

Snape pressed harder on her Mark, and her scream pierced the still evening air. "You cannot avoid reality now, Karn!" Snape cried, a flash of rage in his eyes. "If you want to survive until even tomorrow, you have to follow every word of my instructions!"

It was either the pain or the panic that pushed Kiana over the edge, but despite her best efforts, tears slid down her cheeks. This made her angry for being so weak, and she screamed at him hysterically. "I'm not as dense as you think I am if you expect me to believe _anything _that comes out of your mouth! How can I trust you when you stood at Voldemort's right hand side, watching mercilessly as Harry and I almost died? I'd rather die than listen to you now…you, who aren't even alive!"

Snape's jaw tightened, and the pain from her Mark intensified to such a height that her legs collapsed and Snape finally released her.

Snape glared down at her with such hatred she could almost feel it radiate from him. "_You _ungrateful little…"

"That's enough, Severus. Leave her alone."

Kiana knew another shock that night would surely push her into unconsciousness, but even knowing he was coming didn't prepare her enough.

His name passed her lips with a rush of air. "Dumbledore…"

The old man's half-moon spectacles glistened in the dying light of the sun as he approached her with hands clasped at his chest. His robes of midnight blue glimmered as if newly made, matching the care in his soft blue eyes. Kiana could not take her eyes off Dumbledore as he stood beside Snape and studied her with sympathy.

"Kiana, I'm sorry to have frightened you," he spoke quietly. "It is unfortunate that you had to meet us like this, but it could not be delayed any longer."

This time she could not speak. A fierce ringing in her ears distracted her, and bright spots of color flashed across her world. Her arm still burned as if a hot iron was attached to her skin, and soon she didn't have the strength to fight against it.

"Kiana…"

She could hardly hear them now. It hurt too much to concentrate on the voices. She gave in to her body's commands and left the conscious world in a blur of darkness.

She was trapped. Paralyzed, helpless and trapped. Someone clutched her tightly around the waist and held her still, while another placed a flaming hot ointment on her left forearm. With eyes clenched tight, she screamed and fought the ghostly figures around her.

Someone spoke to her, but she didn't listen. She didn't care what she did to them as long as the pain stopped.

It eventually ceased on its own. Her chest heaved as she struggled to control herself, but her body and mind ached from whatever they had done to her, and her eyes could not dry.

"Kiana, please…"

His voice finally registered in her frazzled mind. She snapped her eyes open and found Harry's deep green ones staring back. He was pale and breathing hard, as if struggling to hold back his own pain. Once he saw she was alert, he leaned down and kissed her cheek several times.

"Harry." Her weak voice sounded distant to her own ears.

He hushed her and held her closer to his chest. "Everything's alright now. Close your eyes."

Kiana raised and studied her thoroughly bandaged left forearm with a grimace. "Where is…"

"Stop, sweetheart; you need to sleep." He gently urged her left arm to rest across her chest.

Kiana tried to sit up and study her surroundings, but all the energy had been sucked out of her limbs. She brushed the tears from her eyes and forced herself to relax. Harry stroked her face and gently rocked her, and these small actions were all that were necessary to bring the darkness back over her world.

Lights floated across her vision like the hypnotizing shapes and colors in a lava lamp. Kiana studied them until she realized their source originated beyond her secret world. She carefully lifted her eyelids and winced at the blinding lamp above her head. She threw an arm over her eyes to bring the darkness back.

"Kiana?"

A hand pulled her arm away, and Kiana squinted at Harry's form above her. She tried to speak, but her dry throat protested.

Before Kiana could focus on his actions, Harry lifted her upright and held a cup to her lips. "You need to drink this," he told her.

The wafting scents of sweet honeysuckle and sharp pine were an odd, offending combination to her. Something wasn't right. Kiana pressed her lips together and shook her head.

"You need to. Please."

His strained voice weakened her, and she allowed him to pour a few sips down her throat, though the taste almost triggered her gag reflex.

Kiana shook away the lingering flashing lights in her vision and struggled to focus on Harry's face. "Harry, what happened? How long was I out for?"

His face tensed, another habit of his, she knew, when he tried to block all emotion from his expression. "You've been unconscious for almost twenty-four hours. I wanted to bring you to St. Mungo's, but…I was told that this was normal after the amount of Dark magic you were hit with."

Kiana shook her head and raised a hand to rub her temple. She tried to recall the last thing that had happened, but the memories only returned to her in dark, drifting shapes and a surge of pain in her left arm.

"You were _told_?" she asked skeptically. "Who told you?"

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but a body lingered behind him and interrupted.

"I did. I'm the only person who knows exactly how to handle this situation."

Kiana's breath halted in her throat, and she instinctively reached for Harry's hand. Her heart pounded erratically as she gazed up into Albus Dumbledore's eyes.

"Kiana, you need to lie down. I don't want you to go under again." Harry urged her to lie back against the couch, and Kiana only resisted for a few seconds. She tried to find the strength to stand, or at least sit on her own, but something had struck her body with intensity. It was like all life had been drained from her and now slowly being poured back in.

No one spoke until Kiana found the words to express her complex thoughts. "How is this possible? How did you and Snape come back? And why do I feel like I was struck with a dozen spells?"

Dumbledore sighed and studied her solemnly. "Kiana, this is a very complex and delicate situation. Perhaps I had better explain it when you are feeling better."

"No!" She bolted upright, sending a harsh throbbing through her skull. She grimaced and slowly leaned back down.

"No," she spoke again, softly. "I deserve to know what happened to me."

Harry clenched his jaw and glanced at Dumbledore imploringly, telling Kiana that her husband deeply protested this idea. But the old man held her eye and nodded.

"Very well, then. I cannot lie to you."

Harry squeezed her hand but did not meet her gaze. He studied their former headmaster with a hint of distrust. Kiana wondered if he believed this man truly was the Dumbledore they had known and loved, or maybe some evil had created an impure form and raised it from the grave.

Dumbledore sat upon the armchair beside the door, keeping himself stiff and alert. "As I believe Snape mentioned to the both of you in the past, the Dark Arts are neither easily explained nor destroyed with a single attempt. Events occur that are unpredictable and capable of altering the lives of many in our world."

He continued in a monotone voice. "This is alike the event that happened a few weeks ago when an innocent, naïve boy opened up the Portal to the Veil and unleashed many souls from the dead. Only some of the dead have returned, since the Veil was not broken for long before Aurors repaired it. I was among these souls, and once we passed through the barrier, we entered into a new type of existence. We are neither living nor dead, neither corporal body nor ghostly spirit. We are trapped in-between; we do not experience the same sensations as the living, but we are still capable of doing harm. In other words, we do not sleep or eat, but we can still perform magic and interact with the living."

A rush of vertigo left Kiana shaky and unstable, but she tried to keep her mind and senses alert. Harry seemed not to be processing Dumbledore's words as he sat beside her, stiff and silent.

Dumbledore caught Harry's eye and translated his thoughts. "It is right for you both to fear me, but I assure you that I am not an impersonator of your headmaster in your past. I hope that, in time, you will take my words to heart and heed my advice, for you'll need any help offered to you in the coming weeks and months."

"What did Snape do to Kiana?" A chill rushed through Kiana at the hatred in Harry's voice. "He brought her close to death!"

"No, Harry; Kiana wasn't close to death. She was only experiencing the devastating effects of her Dark Mark's power now that Voldemort has returned. And with Snape's aide, Dark magic surged through her and sent her body into shock. I didn't know what Snape had done until it was too late, and I take full responsibility for not being there sooner. Thankfully, Kiana will make a full recovery once the magic within her settles."

_Now that Voldemort has returned. Now that Voldemort has returned._

Tears flooded Kiana's eyes as the truth rested in her mind, terrorizing her thoughts. Perhaps if she refused to believe or fought hard enough, she would wake up from this vivid nightmare.

But Dumbledore's eyes were too clear, forcing her to believe the truth. The sympathy radiating from him released her tears and Kiana couldn't stop them.

"Please, no!" She hated feeling so weak, so helpless, and it only worsened when her voice broke. "Please make this all go away. I can't go through this again; I can't have my life torn from me again!"

She crumbled into a small ball, hiding her face from them both and cursing the world. Harry lifted her into his arms and she rested against his chest, soaking his shirt with her tears and releasing every dark emotion in her body.

After awhile, Harry raised her face to his and wiped her tears away with both hands. "Kiana, listen to me." His soft voice did not waver like hers but held some confidence. "This is not the end. We _will _not let Voldemort or Snape get to you again; you will never be found. Dumbledore will help protect you. We'll find a way to return the souls back to where they belong, and everything will be made right. Don't give up yet, love. I need you to be strong."

Kiana couldn't find the right words, but luckily Harry knew this. He let her fall against him until she found that restorative magic called sleep, and Kiana prayed that she wouldn't wake for a long, long while.

In the coming days, Kiana recovered her strength slowly but consistently. In two days she was eating three square meals again, and her husband proved indispensable. He rarely left her side and urged her to do more than what she thought she was capable of.

A week after seeing Snape and Dumbledore raised from the dead, Dumbledore motioned for Kiana and Harry to enter the sitting room. Harry grabbed his wife's hand and glanced at her supportively, but Kiana lowered her gaze. The moment she had dreaded had come, for she knew that Dumbledore had described only the basics before. Now the change was upon her – the change that would shake her and Harry's calm world and leave them in desperate chaos. What the change entailed, she couldn't guess. The only certainty was months of fear and pain.

Kiana nestled up closer to Harry on the couch and closed her eyes, inhaling Harry's musty cologne and focusing on the warmth of his body. She tried to pretend no one else was present, but Dumbledore's voice caused her body to shake. Harry wrapped his arms around her and kissed the top of her head.

"I wish I could forestall everything I have planned," Dumbledore began quietly. "But that would only increase the danger. I'm doing this because I care about you both too much to take any risk. Keep this in mind when I describe my plans."

"What exactly is Voldemort seeking?" Harry spoke up. "What would he…do to Kiana if he caught her?"

Dumbledore exhaled slowly and clasped his hands together. "Voldemort seeks the Almater, a special potion that will increase his power and allow him to remain on earth forever in the same state he's currently in. He is gathering his most faithful Death Eaters, hoping the potion will benefit them as well. Thus, as immortal beings, they could control the wizarding world forever."

Dumbledore's piercing gaze lingered on her like a flame. "He wants you back, Kiana. He believes you are crucial to making this potion and will stop at nothing to claim you again."

Kiana opened her eyes and turned toward him, dread off-setting her heart's pace. She inhaled deeply. "How is this potion made? The Almater?"

Dumbledore hesitated a moment. "The crucial ingredient is the remains of a unique magical connection between two people called the Concorition."

Harry's muscles tensed and Kiana watched his face transform into a hard mask. He was hiding his emotions again. He didn't want her to know something, something he had probably hid from her before. Her overwhelming confusion and fear, however, covered up her curiosity at his secret.

"Voldemort believes you and Harry have this connection, and he is determined to break it," Dumbledore continued. "He wishes to turn you into a ghostly being like them to prevent you from ever escaping. Once transformed, you could never return to the world as you know it now."

Harry's grip tightened on her shoulder, but Kiana relished the pain. Physical pain brought her back to the couch, back to her home, and kept her mind from wandering too far.

"How do you wish to protect Kiana, then?" Harry spoke in a dead and hollow voice. Kiana hated hearing him sound so tortured.

Dumbledore's gaze darted from Kiana to Harry. "In order to give you both the utmost freedom possible, I wish to relocate you to a small flat in Wales. This will get Kiana out of England altogether and allow her to work and live both indoors and out. I will speak with the Ministry about your whereabouts; don't worry about losing your jobs. Everyone you know will suspect you to be on temporary holiday."

"But what if someone recognizes me in Wales?" Kiana asked. "And word gets back to a Death Eater?"

Dumbledore's joined hands tightened until his knuckles shone white. "That won't happen because no one will recognize you."

Kiana's eyes burned as Harry let out a soft moan. "That's our only option?" Harry murmured.

"Unfortunately, it is. Kiana, if you'd please." Dumbledore withdrew his wand, and Kiana instantly tensed.

"We have to do it _now_?" Her voice came out an octave higher.

"I wish to relocate you tonight, if possible. The longer you two stay in Fulham, the more chances of Voldemort finding you. If I'd had my way, you would have moved out a week ago." Dumbledore motioned for her to stand.

A tear slipped down her cheek, and Harry pressed his forehead against hers. His hot, heavy breath comforted her as he whispered. "This doesn't matter, Kiana. It doesn't matter what he does because he won't change who you are to me. You're my American girl and that will never change."

Kiana's gut clenched and nauseating adrenaline pounded through her body as if she prepared to face the death squad. "I love you," she whispered.

As Kiana rose and stood before Dumbledore, she tried to hold his gaze with as much courage as possible. "Don't tell me what you're about to do. I'll find out soon enough."

Dumbledore nodded. His blue eyes poured sympathy upon her. "You're an amazing woman, Kiana. I've always admired your strength and perseverance. I promise that I will reverse the spell as soon as I can."

Closing her eyes, Kiana winced as a jet of light struck her and her entire body seared with heat. Her legs weakened and she crumbled to the floor, her limbs tingling and twitching as if powerful sparks flew under her skin.

Firm hands gripped her shoulders and sat her up. When the heat and tingling stopped, she cautiously peered up into Harry's wide eyes. She grimaced and tried to pull away, embarrassed by his intense examination.

Harry kept her still. "How do you feel?"

She groaned. "Like I need another twenty-four hours of sleep. I don't think I can stand."

Kiana winced and squeezed her eyes shut, instinctively covering her ears and falling into Harry's arms. She hadn't known what Dumbledore would do to her, but the shock of hearing a strong English accent exit her mouth unnerved her. She feared nothing about her was the same.

Harry held her closer to his chest and stroked her hair. "I'm sorry, Kiana; I'm so sorry." Kiana barely heard his soft words, but the grief in his voice told her enough.

A moment later, after releasing a few tears, something hardened in her heart and she hated herself for being weak. Why was she grieving something that had to be done? She couldn't continue living if everything that happened sent her crawling to her husband.

As if reading her thoughts, Harry said, "Don't, Kiana; you're still weak. You have every right to be upset."

She sat upright and shook her head. "No, I can't act like this. I have to be strong. Show me a mirror, Harry."

Harry looked torn. "Kiana…"

"Show me a mirror, Harry!"

Swallowing hard, Harry conjured a hand mirror into existence and unwillingly passed it to Kiana. Taking a deep breath, she held it up to her face.

A stranger peered back at her with deep green eyes. Thick auburn curls framed her heart-shaped face, and Kiana watched as her thin lips parted in shock. She glanced down to find a thin frame and short legs, putting her a few inches shorter than her real self.

Dumbledore had been right. No one would recognize her.


	7. The Forbidden Road Trip

Chapter Seven: The Forbidden Road Trip

Love has nothing to do with what you are expecting to get-only with what you are expecting to give-which is everything.

**Katharine Hepburn**

Harry hadn't experienced many nightmares in the recent past, but the night after Kiana's transformation, he dreamt of one that would terrorize his waking hours for months.

He was running through the grounds of Hogwarts, past clumps of bushes and trees inside the Forbidden Forest. Heat pumped through his body despite the pounding of the cold rain. Sheets of water veiled the world around him until he had to concentrate to find his correct path. Luckily, he heard her first.

Kiana's piercing screams sent a jolt through his chest and pushed him onward. He increased his pace despite the searing pain in his side and the ache in his head. He didn't know who or what tortured her, but he experienced her pain and fear like they shared one body. He prayed he would reach her before he felt the dying beats of her heart.

The trees parted and he found his wife and the source of her pain. The Dark Lord, as strong and foreboding as Harry had ever seen him, laughed with terrifying strength as he shot curse after curse at Kiana. Kiana clenched her teeth in pain as she spun and jerked to dodge the flying jets of light, but she was weakening. Voldemort had already struck her left side, and blood oozed from the wound. Her dark, pure blood splattered the filthy leaves at her feet until she trod on a sea of thick, muddy blood.

Harry saw it all in slow motion, feeling the end before Kiana did. Her wand arm shook from too many weakening factors as she prepared to fire another spell, but her slowed reaction times became her death sentence. Voldemort's eyes alighted with mad delight as he fired one final curse…

"NOOO!"

She left him while his cries still reverberated through the woods. Her body crumpled onto the leaves, her dark hair spilling over her face. Voldemort was gone by the time Harry fell by her side, and he forfeited all control as his screams and curses rang through the forest. He lost all rationality and sense of time as he lifted his wife into his arms and saw her lifeless brown eyes stare back.

The dream blurred and refocused as Snape approached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Harry emerged from the trees, his body wet and ice cold from the rain, his eyes as lifeless as the woman he carried in his arms.

Snape's eyes widened as he studied her, but Harry couldn't tell whether fear or intense sorrow resided in their depths. It didn't matter now. Regardless of how Snape felt, her end had come to pass. Nothing could be done to change it.

Without considering his actions, Harry stepped forward and set his dead wife at his ex-professor's feet. Snape backed up but did not remove his eyes from her pale face and stark eyes. This fueled Harry's anger.

"LOOK!" Harry's face tightened with rage until he looked demonic. "Look at what you've _done!"_

Snape and Harry's eyes connected until their sorrow became one and lightning thundered above the treetops.

Snape blurred and Harry's cries weakened until they became an echo in the breeze.

And Harry awoke in his bed, his hand clutched to his chest as tears pooled in his eyes. He moaned and struggled to catch his breath, but the image of Kiana's dead body sent shivers down his neck and killed all fatigue.

He spent the rest of the night awake, clutching Kiana against him and listening to her heart beat full and strong.

Their new flat in Caerleon was every homeowner's dream. Although limited in space, the separate rooms were fully furnished and stocked with every essential household item. The large window in the sitting room illuminated the space with natural light, making it the most friendly and comfortable.

The old town of Caerleon was quaint and simple, exactly what Harry and Kiana desired. They could remain more discreet here than in a large city like Cardiff. Kiana spoke with Dumbledore and received permission to wander around the town unescorted, although she was forbidden to travel elsewhere in Wales.

"Keep to your town and don't announce your presence to every neighbor in sight," Dumbledore advised after their move. "The less you are seen the less problems there will be."

Kiana didn't foresee _any _problems considering her disguise, but she obeyed Dumbledore out of respect.

Harry's orders were different. Because he wasn't masquerading as someone else, he couldn't be seen in Caerleon at all. Dumbledore feared that if word of Harry Potter's residence reached England, someone would easily guess that Kiana stayed close by. Harry could only remain in Caerleon while inside their flat with the curtains drawn (which Kiana despised because it cast dark and dreariness over their quarters). Otherwise, he had to stay in England where he could work at the Ministry and spread the rumor that Kiana was visiting her family in America.

This plan worked well for both Kiana and Harry until one morning, two weeks after their move, when loneliness struck Kiana's heart like a spear. Unable to remain in Caerleon for a minute more, Kiana waited until Harry had kissed her good-bye and Disapparated to the Ministry before packing a small bag. The weather (usually unpredictable) remained sunny for her and warmed her chilled skin as she walked to the bus station.

After purchasing a mystery novel for the road, Kiana stepped on the bus headed for Leeds and gladly left Caerleon behind. She didn't recall Dumbledore's orders as she watched the shops fly past her. The other passengers didn't give her a second glance, and she smiled to herself. She vanished behind the pages of her book and forgot everything.

Hours later, Kiana stepped foot onto the pavement of Leeds and took off for a coffee shop, not even bothering to bring a map. She soaked in the serenity of the English town and smiled at anyone who passed by. She entered the first shop she saw and sat down in a booth by the window. Opening her book, she immersed herself in the fictional world and ignored the attractive blond man who watched her from a nearby table.

A few minutes later, the man continued to give her direct, interested glances, and Kiana sighed, pulling the book higher up to cover her face. She certainly didn't wish to attract male attention, though she admitted her new body brought more male eyes upon her than previous. She had turned into a magnet, drawing attention from both sexes when she walked the streets. She knew Harry hated it, but seeing as he couldn't be with her often in public, he couldn't do anything about it.

Kiana fooled with her wedding ring so the diamonds caught the light, hoping the blond man would take the hint.

"Here you are, love; one large double mocha." The tall server handed her the coffee alongside a receipt. "Did you wish for anything else?"

"No, thank you," Kiana replied with a friendly smile. Her stomach flipped when he returned her smile with a lingering gaze.

_Look away, look away…_

"Say, I haven't seen your pretty face lately. Do you live around here?"

_Damn._

"No, I'm visiting for the day." Kiana pursed her lips, the familiar sensation of foreignness hitting her as an English accent came effortlessly from her lips. Would she ever get used to it?

The man's face lit up and he leaned his hip against the table, stuffing his hands into his pockets in overacted casualness. "You're certainly not a foreigner, but if you ever need someone to show you around Leeds…"

"That's been taken care of, thank you," a sharp voice broke in.

Kiana's jaw set and she narrowed her eyes as her husband approached them and took the seat opposite her.

Taken aback, the server struggled to regain his dignity. He opened his mouth to defend himself, but Harry stopped him with a full-on glare. Trying to appear unruffled, the man raised his chin and spun on his heel before returning to the register.

Kiana hardly noticed the server's exit as she leveled her gaze warningly at Harry. Her husband remained unaffected. He returned her glare and folded his arms across his chest.

"You left your mobile in the flat," he said with chilling casualness. "You had a voice message from a Mrs. Simmons. Apparently you missed your job interview at the bookshop. That doesn't sound like you, missing something so important."

"I could care less about finding a job in Caerleon," Kiana replied crisply. "This arrangement is temporary. Besides, I'm on good terms with Mrs. Simmons; she won't hold a grudge."

Harry's glare deepened and Kiana felt the impulse to lower her gaze, but she fought it.

"And I'm sure you didn't consider the consequences of such a rash decision," Harry retorted, lowering his voice until it was almost a hiss. "Did Dumbledore not express to you enough how dangerous it is to be wandering around the U.K. alone? You may not be recognizable to the Muggle population or your friends, but Voldemort and his lot can see past your physical appearance if they tried hard enough. There's a certain Mark on your forearm; is there not?"

"Don't speak of this here!" Kiana gasped. She glanced around her, reminding herself of their ordinary surroundings. "Are you_ daft_?"

Harry sighed with impatience. "It's easy enough to cast a wandless spell to keep our conversation hidden, correct? Your magical education has been severely limited, Kiana, ever since you left Hogwarts after Christmas that year. You never did take your lessons seriously after that…"

Kiana cut him off with a flick of her hand. "Irrelevant, Potter! Now tell me why you're here. How did you find me? You interrupted my holiday without permission, so it'd better be important. I don't see the harm of my actions at all."

Harry's face softened slightly, and he leaned in toward her. "You think Dumbledore doesn't have ways of tracking you? You're his most important concern right now." He paused. "Kiana, when was the last time you ate?"

She gaped at him. "What? I…this morning. I ate this morning; what are you on about?"

Harry's face tensed and his mouth formed a thin line as he studied her with unveiled concern. "You've become quick to lie, have you noticed that? You're turning into Malfoy with how easily you guard the truth."

Kiana didn't know how to respond. Too many thoughts spun in her mind, the first being her amazement at how quickly he had picked up on her lie. He hadn't bothered to inquire further before announcing his opinion – which, this time, was close to fact. She decided to voice aloud her deepest fear.

"How do you know I lied? Does this have something to do with that connection Dumbledore mentioned? Or do you fake confidence in your answers too well?"

Harry paused uncomfortably. "It doesn't matter if I know or guess these things, Kiana. All that matters is that you're slipping away from me and I'm allowing it. How can I help you get through this if you push me away like I'm an overbearing parent?"

Kiana grimaced and ran her fingers across her book cover. "There's nothing you can do to help, Harry. If I hide my ill feelings, it's only because I don't want to drag you down with me. That's the truth." She raised her eyes somewhat confidently, although she sunk lower in her seat under Harry's intense gaze. It was like a headlight had appeared over her, making every part of her visible and under scrutiny. Thankfully, no one in the café gave them any notice…except for that impertinent blond man. He kept sneaking glances at her from behind his newspaper. Kiana wanted to throw a teacup at his head, but she did her best to ignore him.

Noticing her discomfort, Harry suddenly stood and offered her his hand. "This place is a bit dodgy for spending the whole day in. May I offer you a scenic car ride back to Caerleon? You can tell me all about that intriguing novel you won't put down."

Kiana couldn't help but smile at his kind efforts, and she took his hand. She allowed him to lead her out of the coffee shop. "You may if the tour includes a stop for food." She tossed him a teasing smile. "You see, I had a rather meager breakfast…"

Harry wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed her cheek tenderly. Kiana smiled, thankful that her new body hadn't changed his affections toward her.

"I'll pay for a whole month's worth of eloquent meals if you promise never to run off like that again."

Kiana shrugged. "I've received worse offers. I believe you have struck a bargain, my fair gent."

Sleep escaped both of them that night, though they had tired quickly during their long trip back to Caerleon. Their minds filled of fear…fear of who had seen them together in Leeds, and fear of Dumbledore's chastisement. They made an unspoken agreement to keep Kiana's trip a secret from their old headmaster.

Kiana lay against him, her back to his bare chest as he gripped her tightly with one arm. He tried to convince himself that whatever new disaster occurred, he'd be able to stop its descent if he held onto her hard enough.

After awhile, Harry's mind wandered to a different subject; something that had been bothering him but he'd not spoken about.

"Kiana, I need to know why you lied to me."

His voice was free of anger or accusation, but Kiana tensed like there had been. She shifted in his arms, pushing herself away, but Harry held on tighter and whispered into her ear. "Why do you so desperately feel the need to keep these secrets? What's happening to you that you think we can't face together?"

Kiana twisted around until she stared directly into his eyes. She tried to keep her face blank. "I don't want to burden you with my own pain, Harry. Can't you understand that? I deserve to keep _some _secrets seeing as I don't exactly feel like myself right now!"

Harry winced slightly, and Kiana softened. "I'm sorry; that came out wrong."

"No," Harry said. "I don't want you to apologize for your feelings, Kiana. I can't possibly understand how you're feeling, and I'm sorry for coming on strongly. I just don't like it when you hide your pain for my sake. I want us to get through it together."

"But you know my Mark's been bothering me," Kiana told him. "That's the reality right now. So it's hardly lying when I keep it from you."

Harry shook his head. "No, I'm not talking about your Mark. I'm talking about _this…_" He lifted her shirt and placed a hand on her back. Kiana moaned in pain and jerked in his grasp, and Harry released her. The scars on her back flared a bright red, and her skin seared with pain. She curled up and dug her hands into the mattress.

Harry's face paled as he pushed himself off the bed. "Lie down and take your shirt off," he ordered.

Kiana glanced up as she tried to manage her breathing. The pain struck her deeply, more deeply than any ordinary injury. She couldn't force Bellatrix's cruel face from her mind and how the witch had struck her again and again without mercy. Her scars hadn't burned this much since their creation, and Kiana didn't want to ponder over the reason why.

"What are you doing?" she gasped as Harry magicked a small container into his hand.

"Lie down," he repeated, unscrewing the top and placing it on the nightstand.

She frowned but obeyed, carefully pulling off her shirt and bra while trying to avoid touching her back.

"I spoke to Dumbledore about your scars," Harry murmured as he sat beside her and placed several fingers into the bowl. Thick, white paste covered his hand. "He gave me this cream to use. It should help with the pain."

"But how…"

"Shh," he hushed her. "Wait until the pain stops."

Kiana squeezed her eyes shut, and Harry placed his cream-coated hand over her back. She cried out as the medicine soaked into her skin, but the pain slowly dissipated the more the cream was applied.

After Harry had covered her entire back, he told her to remain on her stomach so the medicine could properly dry.

"But Harry…" Kiana whispered once the pain had settled. "I don't understand. How did you know about this? I didn't tell anyone."

Weariness attached itself to every part of his face as Harry vanished the medicine with his wand. "Tomorrow."

"No, Harry…"

"Tomorrow," he repeated more firmly. "It's too complicated to explain tonight. You need to rest. We both need to rest."

"How come I'm not allowed to keep secrets but you are?"

Harry chuckled weakly as he kissed her on the lips. "Because I'm not the one in greater danger. Now try to sleep."

That night, neither Harry nor Kiana experienced nightmares. They would later recall it as one of their last peaceful nights.


	8. The Blond Stranger

Chapter Eight: The Blond Stranger

In all our losses, all our gains,

In all our pleasures, all our pains,

The life of life is:

Love remains.

In every change from good to ill,

If love continue still,

Let happen then what will.

**Theodore Tilton**

The moment the words were out of his mouth, Kiana knew why Harry had kept it from her. Fear attacked her mind first, and then came the sorrow.

"Kiana. Kiana, please talk to me." Harry turned her face toward his, and his devastation squeezed her heart. She couldn't be mad at him. No, this wasn't his fault. He hadn't asked for this, either.

"There's nothing to talk about. We can't change what happened. You need to go to work; you'll be late." She stood and grabbed her coffee out of the machine.

"Why do you do this to me, Kiana?" His torn voice made her wince. "Whenever something bad happens, you drift away from me and hide in your own world. Talk to me."

Her hands tightened around her cup. "Why do you _always _think talking is the answer? You're such a hypocrite, Harry; _you _never talk about every little thing that's bothering you! God, can't you let me be for a single day?"

Harry froze and stared hard at her. Kiana sipped her coffee and avoided him. He opened his mouth to speak and then closed it, his face tightening as he grabbed his Ministry cloak and Disapparated on the spot.

A rush of fury flew through her and into her fingertips, causing her arms and hands to tremble. Unable to contain it, she tossed her full cup forcefully into the sink. Two large chucks broke off and tumbled into the drain.

_Damn him! _she screamed in her mind. _Why does he always have to worsen every situation? Why is he making me feel like I'm hurting him by not talking? Does he understand _nothing _I'm going through?_

This surge of anger terrified her more than the connection Harry had spoken of. This was not like her to get angry so quickly and over something out of her and Harry's control. Suddenly everything about the situation infuriated her, and she knew she had to escape before she destroyed their entire apartment.

She knew Harry would disapprove, but something tugged at her, drawing her away from Caerleon and to the sea. There was something about the still air, crash of the surf, and gentle swaying of the trees that pushed everything else from her mind. She closed her eyes and inhaled the sweet scent of pine, dewy grass, and sea salt.

"Do you come here often?"

Kiana gasped and bolted to her feet, adrenaline pumping through her veins as she prepped to run. But one glance at the stranger halted her progress.

The blond man from the coffee shop smiled ruefully. "I'm sorry if I startled you."

Kiana blinked. "_If_? You almost sent me toppling over the cliff!"

The man chuckled, his wavy blond hair swaying in the breeze. "Rubbish. You're five meters away."

Kiana crossed her arms and studied the stranger with annoyance. "That's beside the point! In _my _world, it's not polite to sneak up upon perfect strangers without even an introduction!"

"How foolish of me. Let's start again." He extended a hand with a sly grin. "My name is Cedric and it's a pleasure to meet you face-to-face."

Kiana kept her arms crossed and didn't step forward. "Face-to-face? So you _are _the bloke from the coffee shop."

Cedric's eyes sparkled in the dying sun, giving her confirmation.

"That was quite rude, you know," she continued. "I don't appreciate being studied like a fascinating work of art. And that man…" She halted and bit down on her tongue. She had almost identified Harry as her husband; one forbidden act she wasn't about to break.

Cedric raised his eyebrows. "Ah, I see I'm not the only one keeping secrets."

Kiana's annoyance grew and she pursed her lips. "If this is the way you hit on girls, then you'd better refine your dating strategies. Besides, if you haven't noticed…" She flexed her fingers so her diamond ring dazzled in the light.

Cedric shook his head impatiently. "I'm offended you think me that daft. And _you'd _better relearn proper chat-up lines if you thought I fancied you. This was just me being an obnoxious git."

Kiana's jaw dropped and it took her a moment to recollect herself. "At least you're honest," she murmured. "I've never met a guy like you."

Cedric shrugged. "That's actually a compliment to me. I don't try to be like everyone else. You never told me your name, by the way."

She considered lying but knew he'd probably call her out on it. "Kiana."

"Well, Kiana, I was about to go cliff diving but when I saw you I thought I'd invite you."

Her lips twisted into a smile. "Do you do this often? Study random people in a shop and then ask them to go cliff diving with you?"

"Do you have a problem with that?"

"It's a bit dodgy," she admitted. "How am I supposed to know that you won't drown me?"

His smile was contagious. "You'll have to trust me, I guess."

"And I'm supposed to trust you after only knowing you for two minutes?"

Cedric walked toward the edge of the cliff and pulled his shirt off over his head. Kiana's eyes lingered on his chiseled abs and biceps before she realized what she was doing and redirected her gaze to the sea.

"That's your choice," he finally replied, slipping off his shoes. "Are you coming? Or are you too much of a girl?"

Kiana clenched her jaw and threw off her shoes and socks. She tossed him a spiteful look as she stood beside him on the edge of the cliff. "You have some nerve," she hissed. Cedric smiled innocently.

"On the count of three," he said. "One, two…"

Kiana inhaled deeply, praying there weren't many rocks below.

"Three!"

Closing her eyes, Kiana shrieked and hugged her knees to her chest as she jumped and fell through the air. The wind whistled in her ears and tossed her shirt up until it almost came over her head. Gravity tugged her down faster and faster until she was sure she'd die when she reached the waves.

In only a few seconds, her back hit the water and she winced at the impact. She sunk below the waves and kicked heartily until she reached the surface. Throwing her head back, she gulped in air and released a shriek of laughter.

"Oh…my…_god!_ That was _amazing!_"

Cedric paddled alongside her, his hair slicked back across his scalp. He flashed her a smile. "And you almost didn't do it, too."

She gaped at him. "_Almost_? It was _you _who…"

He laughed and hit her with a jet of spray. Kiana sputtered before splashing back, her body not feeling the cold as she focused on Cedric.

"You'd best be careful in these waters, Kiana," he told her with raised eyebrows. "I hear sharks like to roam these areas."

She paused a moment, her heart hammering. "You jest!"

"I thought you didn't know me."

"You'd _better _be jesting!"

"Or what?"

"Or I'll…never go cliff-diving with you again!"

Cedric grinned as he stroked with his powerful arms and legs. "Does that mean you were planning on seeing me again?"

He had her. She glared at him and Cedric laughed before he splashed her again. "Any time, Miss Kiana," he replied with an exaggerated lilt. "Any time."

She arrived back in Caerleon with dripping hair and a wide smile. She hummed to herself as she checked for messages on her phone. She listened to a voice message from Michelle, who spoke of her new teaching job and what boys seemed interested in her, but Kiana hardly took in her words.

With Harry gone so much of the time, she had found herself wishing for more than just a meal and sleep companion. She wanted to spend time with someone who'd go on adventures with her, go sight-seeing, and share in some gossip. Of course, most of this was limited because of her situation, but she missed having a friend to talk to.

_So what if he's male, _she thought as she brushed through her red curls. _Married women can have male friends. It's all about the companionship, anyway. Who I feel most comfortable with…_

Kiana had to admit that she'd never felt so connected with someone in such a short space of time, but something about Cedric had her hooked. It had to be more than just his great body (obviously, because she wasn't looking for sex). Maybe it was his humor or his confidence. He carried himself well and had the way of looking into her eyes so deeply it seemed he searched her heart. She liked when men actually paid attention to her and cared about what she had to say (unlike some who seemed to be undressing her with their eyes or calculating how quickly they could get her into bed with them.)

Suddenly she gasped, for she realized she'd never received his last name, his home address, or even a number! She hissed through her teeth and tugged at her hair with her brush. How stupid had she been? What if she never saw him again?

Kiana's fears proved unfounded two days later as she searched for a new novel at the local bookstore. She had picked up a mystery novel with an intriguing, dark cover when a hand shot out and took the book out of her hand.

"You have no taste," a rough, familiar voice spoke as the hand placed the book back on the shelf. "That author is rubbish."

Kiana widened her eyes and studied the mysterious Cedric with unveiled fascination. "You do have the obnoxious habit of spooking a woman."

"Obnoxious? More obnoxious than the books you drudge through?" Cedric shivered. "I'd take the spooking over the books, thank you. Perhaps a more educated human can introduce you to some satisfactory authors. Have you read the works of Robert Barnard? I quite enjoyed Death by Sheer Torture."

Without waiting for a reply, Cedric led her farther down the mystery section and pulled out a couple of large paperback novels. Kiana watched with a smile as he muttered to himself, flipping through cover after cover and creating a growing pile of books in her arms.

"Cedric, I don't have much time on my hands; I can't read seven books!"

Cedric rolled his eyes as he led her toward the check-out station. "I saw how you rushed through _one_ at the coffee shop in Leeds. Trust me, you'll handle these."

"£ 35.50, please," the cashier woman quoted.

Kiana pursed her lips as she tipped the books onto the table. "Cedric, can you grab my handbag for…"

Cedric slapped a forty pound note on the table before Kiana could reach for a single coin.

Kiana's jaw dropped and she spluttered, "Cedric, don't be…"

"Already taken care of; you can't change the past." He handed her the bag of her new books and pushed her toward the door. "Think of it as a teacher instructing his pupil. I daresay you need some instruction in the mystery genre."

Normally Kiana would've been irked at his exaggerated dislike of her reading preferences, but because it was Cedric, she didn't say a word. Instead she asked an unrelated question.

"What were you doing in Leeds? Do you live there?"

Cedric grabbed a random book off the shelf before they reached the exit door. He halted and flipped through it with a furrowed brow, but he didn't seem to take in a word. "I'd like to consider myself an explorer," he replied with an unconcerned air. "I travel and live across the UK, not staying in the same town for more than a year. In fact, I lived in Leeds last year and now reside in Cardiff. I like Wales better than England, I think. I may hang around for awhile. I assume you live in Caerleon?"

She debated on how much to tell him. She hardly knew him, after all; she only trusted him because of his friendly and down-to-earth character. "What makes you so sure?" she asked.

"That you live here? Oh nothing…except that you like to shop in this bookstore. There's so little selection that only people who live in Caerleon shop here for convenience sake. I'll also assume that you've moved here recently."

Kiana grimaced as he placed his book down and they walked out into the setting sun. "I never thought of myself as easy to read. Or are you just good at it?"

Cedric smiled. "Both, I guess. So what are your plans for Christmas?"

Kiana groaned and closed her eyes. "Christmas! How could I forget? It's December already, isn't it?"

"That _is _typically the month after November. But I can see how you'd forget; the weather hasn't exactly been below zero this winter."

"Well, I wasn't expecting that." Kiana stopped to admire caramel rolls in the window of a sweet shop. "Neither am I expecting snow every Christmas, however much I wish it."

"You should travel, then," Cedric told her. "Go somewhere where snowman-building is required of all schoolchildren."

Kiana sorely wished to tell him that that's exactly how she'd grown up, but her masquerade didn't allow for that leisure. She had to be a British woman living in Wales. End of story.

Cedric noticed her hesitance and changed the subject, asking her where she worked and how longed she'd been staying in Caerleon. Kiana gave him as many details as she could, although she couldn't divulge her husband's name or his occupation, and she lied about where she'd lived in England before arriving in Wales. She hated her situation most when she had to lie to a perfectly normal person like she was now.

When it was his turn to speak, Kiana learned that Cedric worked as a freelance writer for a newspaper company in London. He wrote stories of his travels around the UK and was rewarded for his wit and accurate portrayals of small town life and irksome tourist habits. The pay wasn't great, but, as Cedric put it, "the opportunities certainly are."

When they reached her apartment complex, Kiana embraced him a little awkwardly before turning to go. "Thanks for the books," she said. "I'll be sure to read them thoroughly and I'll give my reviews if I see you again."

"Seven p.m., this Sunday at the Morn Café," Cedric replied to her unspoken question. "I'll expect at least one review."

Before she could speak, he clasped his hand around her left forearm and pressed his lips to her forehead. Her body instantly froze and nausea rushed from her head down to her feet. She pulled her tingling arm out of his grasp and staggered with eyes closed.

Cedric placed an arm around her waist, steadying her. "Are you okay?"

Her vision spun as she concentrated on his face. "Yes. I'm fine."

He released her and nodded once before turning away. Her breathing quickened and she called out, "Wait! I…I don't even know your surname."

He spun around and replied while walking backward. "Diggory. I'm Cedric Diggory."

He had disappeared long ago, but Kiana continued to stand and stare, hypnotized, at the spot where he had vanished. Her lips twitched into a smile and she walked into her apartment with a light head and racing mind.

"Death by Sheer Torture by Robert Barnard. When did this new obsession with mystery authors begin?"

Kiana smiled to herself as her husband crawled under the covers. "Recently, I guess. I met this guy at the local bookshop who introduced me to Barnard. I'm hooked now, to say the least."

"So that was the highlight of your day? Reading mystery novels?"

Kiana glanced up at him. "I'm sorry my life can't be as adventurous as yours. I don't fight off the Dark Arts for a living."

Harry smiled and kissed her on the cheek. "Trust me, I prefer it that way. Perhaps you can recount the plot to me tomorrow. I can hardly keep my eyes open now."

"Don't worry about it. Do you mind if I read for a few minutes more?"

"Read as long as you'd like. And…Kiana?"

She looked up from her book.

"I'm sorry for what happened this morning. You're right; I've been pressuring you too often to talk to me and you need to have your space. Just remember that I'm here for you always, alright?"

"Of course, Harry. Thank you. Good night, love."

Harry kissed her again before turning on his side. He was asleep within minutes.

After finishing her chapter, Kiana turned off their bedside light and fell against her pillow, holding her book tight against her chest. Her eyes had studied the printed text carefully, but her mind hadn't followed the plot. A man with blond hair and riveting eyes kept replacing every character, and by the end Kiana couldn't remember who the characters were. She fell asleep with the book in her arms and her mind glued on her fascinating day.

It was perhaps good that, even with their connection, Harry didn't know of Kiana's dreams. For that night, Kiana dreamt of Cedric Diggory for the first time.


	9. Suspicion

Chapter Nine: Suspicion

"Perfect love is rare indeed - for to be a lover will require that you continually have the subtlety of the very wise, the flexibility of the child, the sensitivity of the artist, the understanding of the philosopher, the acceptance of the saint, the tolerance of the scholar and the fortitude of the certain."

**- ****Leo Buscaglia**

"Watch her carefully, Harry," Dumbledore warned him the day before. "Something's happened that I can't explain. Voldemort's power is growing; I feel it everywhere I go. I need you to stay at home with Kiana and cut down your hours at the Ministry. Keep her inside whenever possible."

"Do they know where she is?" Harry had asked anxiously. "Have they discovered any sign of her whereabouts?"

"Not that I know of, but I'm asking Severus to listen closely for any news. As of now I don't see any reason to panic, but if the worst comes…"

"How could we protect her if we knew the Death Eaters were coming? What's our final action?"

Dumbledore paused. "I don't know, Harry. Right now we can only hope it doesn't come to that."

Now on Saturday morning, Harry sat at the breakfast table with Kiana, who poured over her second mystery novel.

Harry studied her before putting his paper down. "Kiana, I'd like to spend the entire weekend with you, if that's okay. We have to stay inside, of course, but we'll find fun things to do. Do you have any plans otherwise?"

Kiana hesitated a moment. "I'm meeting a friend tomorrow at seven at the café. I don't know what we're going to do, but I promised him."

Harry nodded slowly. "Is this the same guy you met at the bookstore?"  
"Yes. His name is Cedric and he's amazingly friendly and witty. He'll probably show me around the parts of Caerleon I haven't seen yet."

Kiana read his face too clearly, however hard Harry tried to hide it. She frowned and said, "Don't do that, Harry; he's perfectly harmless. I need a good friend who'll lift my mood a bit. I promise we'll stay inside the town."

Harry sighed and ran his thumb across the rim of his coffee cup. "I don't like you getting close to perfect strangers, but I understand how lonesome this arrangement has been for you. Just promise not to stay out all night?"

She breathed out in relief. "Of course. Thank you, Harry."

Cedric stirred his caramel latte with an absentminded expression. Kiana wondered how he could always appear so carefree, so unconcerned with life's happenings.

_Is that a positive or negative trait? _she thought. _Surely the difficulties in life must catch up to him._

She pondered over his past, wondering about his family and his childhood. How had he been raised? What were his other relationships like? Had he ever had his heart broken?

Cedric's lips twitched upon seeing her intense gaze. "Something troubling you, Kiana?"

She jerked in place and blushed as she raised her coffee to her lips. "No, no! I was just…thinking about you. How easygoing you are. You're very comfortable to be around, Cedric. I'm sure you're popular with everyone you meet."

Cedric snorted and gazed past their table. "You're romanticizing my lifestyle, Kiana. It may seem like an easy existence, but my life is packed with concerns and problems. Like now, for instance – I can't decide how long I should remain in Caerleon."

Kiana's heart jerked and she prayed her surprise didn't show on her face. "But you just got here!"

"I know, but that's the life I lead. I go where the stories are. Unfortunately, Caerleon is a bit too…_practical _for my tastes. Nothing too exciting is happening right now. The people are ordinary and some are even tasteless. That may suite some people, but for me it doesn't help pay the bills."

Kiana concentrated on pouring the right amount of milk into her coffee, trying not to think too hard. She knew she liked Cedric – a _lot_ – but she hadn't realized how fond of him she was until he'd spoken of leaving. What would she do without him? How would she survive each dull day without his humor and compassion?

Something must have flashed across her face because Cedric frowned and reached for her hand. "Love, I didn't mean to upset you. I shouldn't have said anything; sometimes I let my words get away from me."

"It's fine, Cedric." She hoped her voice sounded nonchalant, but she couldn't keep eye contact. "I never assumed you'd stay long; I recognize the reality of your traveling lifestyle. Besides, we hardly know each other."

Cedric squeezed her hand and she unwillingly looked up into his light blue eyes. "I've grown fond of you, too, Kiana. You're an amazing woman, intellectual and amusing; but my plans aren't set in stone yet. We still have more time to hang out. Perhaps we can go cliff diving again. I haven't shown you some of my infamous twists and somersaults."

Kiana smiled for his benefit, but inside her gut clenched. Her new life had become almost comfortable, and now everything was crumbling beneath her! Could she rely on anything in life to remain constant and static?

Cedric sighed and leaned back, stretching his arms out to support his head. "Let's change the subject; I want to see a _true _smile on your face. Do you know what I've noticed as I've observed people in this town?"

"What?" It was a half-hearted answer, but Kiana couldn't bring much energy to her voice anymore.

"Too many people are living a commonplace lifestyle. They do things that are expected of them, even if that means getting married and having kids. But soon they realize that they're not fulfilled and they always seek _more_. Do they ever find what they're seeking? Not if they're stuck in their normal routine.

"I've made the same mistakes; I've been stuck in the same dull routine. That's why I live this life now, Kiana. I do it because it fits me, though it's not what people expect or even wish for me."

"Mmm-hmm." Kiana swirled her coffee with a plastic spoon and watched the brown liquid gleam in the light. She missed half of what Cedric spoke to her; her mind was trapped on that one day when Cedric would say good-bye to her forever.

He lightly touched her arm, and she glanced up tentatively. His face was so compassionate, so loving, that her eyes stung and tears formed behind her irises. She didn't hold her sorrow back from him. She knew he had seen it all.

"Don't make the same mistakes I did, Kiana," he whispered, his voice deep and thick with emotion. "Don't settle for a life you're not happy with. Make sure every decision you make brings you contentment. I wouldn't wish to see you living a mediocre life. You deserve better than that."

She became overwhelmed by his power. She didn't know what it was about him, but he brought out every secret emotion inside her and made her forget everyone and everything in her life. Even Harry was pushed aside when she looked into Cedric's eyes, and this realization made her nauseous. Kiana blinked hard and rose from her seat.

"I think I need to head for home, Cedric. I promised my husband I would return by dark."

Cedric nodded and tried to keep eye contact with her, but Kiana had had enough. Without another word, she left the coffee shop with shaky steps and a misty vision. She tried to leave everything behind her – every thought of him, every emotion connected to him – but it was impossible. His face, his voice, and his words clung to her mind and heart like fleas, unwilling to be torn away and destroyed.

And the worst part was she knew she couldn't fight it, because she longed for him more than she wished for his disappearance. He was a part of her, and he could not be forced away.

Harry noticed the change in his wife instantly. Her mood had been improving the past few weeks, but now as Christmas crept closer, she did a three-sixty. She slept later in the day, no longer applied make-up, and spoke with a low, hollow voice. He asked her to talk to him – no, _begged _her to talk – but she simply told him, "There's nothing you can do, Harry. Don't worry about me. I'll get over it soon enough."

A week before Christmas, Harry spoke to Dumbledore in secret after Kiana had retired to bed (they placed a sound barrier on her door to be sure she'd not hear a word). He explained that he thought her depression was coming back, though he couldn't explain the reason why.

"She received that job she applied for at the bookshop," Harry continued, studying his interlaced fingers with a hard brow. "I even hear she's met some mates, but you'd never know it from the way she walks around the flat…like a ghost. A zombie. Like all happiness has been drained from her…"

Dumbledore studied Harry sympathetically, but Harry refused to meet the Headmaster's gaze. He feared losing emotional control if he allowed Dumbledore to break his barriers. He hadn't known how deeply Kiana's demeanor had been affecting him until now, when he had to talk about it.

"Harry, listen to me." Dumbledore seemed to be pleading with him. Harry raised his eyes tentatively. "I don't believe that Kiana's attitude is simply the effects of a psychological disorder like depression. As I've mentioned before, I feel Voldemort's power rising, though I can't predict where he's aiming. I don't know if Kiana's sensed it, too, but I'm sure she has because of her Dark Mark. The more I observe her, the more convinced I am that Voldemort is behind her melancholy." He sighed and clenched his jaw. "It is _frustrating_ to be so helpless! If only I knew how Voldemort was affecting her, I'd come up with a strategy to suppress his power. But Snape keeps reporting that Voldemort is not aiming to strike outside of England, so he must not know where Kiana is."

"So her Dark Mark must be weak, then," Harry cut in. "I thought with the Mark Voldemort could find her instantly?"

"I thought as much in the beginning," Dumbledore replied. "But Kiana's Mark seems to be different because Voldemort wasn't able to find her after she left Hogwarts. My hypothesis is that since Kiana did not receive the Mark willingly, Voldemort cannot use it as a tracking device. She can't be found if she doesn't wish to be."

"Then how can Voldemort affect her if he doesn't know where she is?" Harry's voice rose in irritation.

Dumbledore studied him solemnly. "That is the ultimate question, Harry; the question that right now cannot be answered. That's why, after seeing how much worse Kiana's behavior has become, I want to remove you from the Ministry entirely and keep you at home. I don't want her to be alone if something catastrophic does occur."

Harry groaned inwardly and closed his eyes. "Kiana won't allow that. She won't like it; she thinks I'm interrogating her enough as it is. If I remain at home 24/7, she'll know something's up and will only try and escape more often."

"That's why you can't let her know you're there," Dumbledore replied. "Use your Invisibility Cloak every once in awhile and stay visibly with her the rest of the time. Since you can't go outdoors, I'll have Aurors from the Ministry track her to see where she goes. If anything suspicious happens, you'll be the first to know."

Harry blinked a few times. "Wait, you're allowing yourself to be seen at the Ministry? How many people know about you?"

Dumbledore gave him a small smile. "I'm not striding down the corridors at the Ministry in daylight, Harry. No, I'm in contact with only a select few Aurors whom I trust implicitly. They've been tracking Kiana every once and awhile for me. It's useful to have an in at the Ministry in case Voldemort does decide to strike."

"So the entire Ministry, including the Minister himself, doesn't know that you, Voldemort and the rest are back?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "It would be foolish to cause that much upset in the wizarding community. Until Voldemort decides to attack someone or something, it would not be wise to raise the alarm. You know what a full-out panic would occur with the news."

Harry sighed and rubbed his face wearily. "I need to head for bed. Kiana's probably wondering why I'm not there yet."

"You remember what I said before, Harry?"

Harry nodded and rose slowly from the couch. "Yes. I won't mention a word of our conversation to Kiana, nor will I mention Voldemort."

"Keep me informed as often as you can, please." Dumbledore's eyes remained deep and grave. "I need to know if any of Kiana's actions or behaviors seem unusual. The more warnings we receive the more chances we have of stopping whatever's coming."

Harry rubbed his face again and glanced longingly at his bedroom door. "I don't want to think about that right now, Dumbledore. I can't live each day wondering when Voldemort's going to appear and hurt my wife; that kind of mental torment would leave me unable to function. I pray every day that nothing's going to happen, that you'll find some way to return these souls back to where they belong."

"I'm trying, Harry," Dumbledore whispered. "Believe me, I'm trying."

Christmas Eve arrived with a downpour of cold rain. During breakfast, Harry received an urgent owl to arrive at the Ministry by nine.

"On Christmas Eve? Are they serious?" Kiana moaned.

Harry squeezed her shoulder as he turned to exit the kitchen. "They're mental sometimes, love. They don't consider family when they send out urgent notices."

"Or weddings," Kiana mumbled.

Harry smiled humorlessly as he reached for his Ministry robes. "I'm sure the only thing 'urgent' about this meeting is that they don't want to put it off until Christmas Day. I'll hopefully return by supper. Will you…Kiana, are you feeling alright?"

Kiana, who had slowly been placing her dishes in the dishwasher, straightened and managed a smile. "Of course. Why…"

"You're pale." Harry strode toward her instantly. He placed a hand on her forehead before Kiana could avoid him. "You're a little warm. Are you feeling ill?"

Kiana rolled her eyes and backed away from his reach. "Stop being so _maternal_, Harry! I'm fine; I didn't get much sleep last night. I'll manage a nap today seeing as I don't have work."

Harry continued to eye her with concern. "Make sure you do. I don't want you sick for Christmas. We're going to Ron and Hermione's in the evening, remember?"

"How could I forget? I had their gifts picked out months ago. Now go to the Ministry before they keep you longer because of your tardiness."

Harry's mouth tightened, but he didn't reply. Kissing her good-bye, he Disapparated in the kitchen.

As soon as Harry disappeared, Kiana slumped into a chair and rested her head in her hands.

_I didn't think it was that noticeable, _she thought vaguely. _Maybe I am getting sick. _

Grabbing her newest mystery novel from the kitchen table (Booked to Die by John Dunning) she magicked herself into pajamas and returned to bed. Before she made it under the covers, a sickening surge of queasiness overwhelmed her and she raced to the bathroom. She made it in time to vomit heavily into the toilet.

The nausea passed as quickly as it had come, and Kiana raised her head to study her flushed cheeks in the mirror. She moaned and splashed water on her face, knowing how miserable the holiday would turn out to be.

Before she returned to bed, she passed by the calendar in the hallway. She stopped instinctively and studied the bold numbers. When it finally dawned on her, she reached out to clutch the wall for support. Holding a hand over her mouth, Kiana feared fainting at that very spot.

Harry's prediction that he would arrive home by suppertime proved false. He walked through the front door at a quarter past nine, his body so depleted from the long hours he could barely stand. One glance at Kiana, however, sent a jolt of energy through his limbs.

Kiana lay huddled on the couch, her face hidden in her arms. Her quiet sobs shook her body, and she seemed not to have noticed Harry's entrance.

Rushing to her, Harry dropped to his knees and placed a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened but did not lift her head.

"Baby, what's wrong?"

Kiana slowly straightened and brushed the sleeve of her sweater across her red, puffy eyes.

"I don't want to talk about it…not now. Not on Christmas." Her voice was thick from weeping.

Harry tensed unconsciously. "Is it…about him? Is he hurting you?"

Kiana released a low, humorless chuckle. "Not at all. No, it's about…something remarkably normal compared to Voldemort." She shivered with the name and wrapped her arms around herself.

Harry rose to sit beside her and magicked a coffee cup into his hands. "Here. It'll warm you up; you're freezing…"

Kiana shook her head. "No, thanks…"

"Come on; it's one of your favorites! Who can resist hot chocolate on Christmas?"

Kiana smiled slightly at his efforts and took the cup. She sipped the hot liquid in silence, her gaze clouded over.

Kiana noticed how difficult it was for Harry to keep silent, and eventually she gave in to his silent pleas. With shaking hands, she placed her cocoa on the side table before turning to him with misty eyes.

"Harry, I'm pregnant."


	10. Fear and Treachery

Chapter Ten: Fear and Treachery

Real love is feeling like being a part of that person's  
life almost isn't enough. It's more like a feeling that  
you would live in the same skin with them if you could  
and share every thought, heart beat, and emotion as one.

**- Rod Cannon**

"_Harry, I'm pregnant."_

The ticks of the wall clock rang like gun shots in the air as Harry and Kiana stared at each other.

Harry blinked a few times before turning and staring vacantly out the window. "Wow," he breathed. "That was the _last _thing I expected to hear…"

"I'm six weeks along," Kiana whispered, her face pale and tense. "I don't know what went wrong. We've been using protection since the beginning."

Suddenly his face changed. Kiana saw it and her eyes widened. "Harry, are you…_smiling?_"

Harry gently took her face between his hands. "Kiana, did you ever stop to think that this could be a blessing in the midst of our chaos?"

Kiana frowned. "I think you're too tired to think clearly. Did _you _ever stop to think that we'd be bringing a baby into this world when _Voldemort _is at our doorstep?"

Harry replied by taking her hand and hauling her to her feet. "Come on; you need to get out of this house."

"What?" Kiana's head spun from both fatigue and her merciless thoughts. "Where the hell could we go on Christmas Eve?"

The glimmer of their silver Christmas tree lights reflected in his eyes. "I thought I'd give you your Christmas present early."

Kiana was about to protest, but the blissful look on his face closed her mouth. She allowed him to take her hand and Disapparate with her, though she secretly knew _nothing _could cheer her up that night. She didn't care how much money he had spent…

And then she saw where he had taken her.

At first she didn't recognize the location. All she took in were the green street signs, large, two-story houses, and the foot of snow reaching past her ankles. She shivered as a crisp breeze stung her cheeks.

She looked closer and everything clicked into place. She gasped aloud, staggering and reaching out to grip Harry's forearm.

Harry smiled in the bright lights of the houses. "You never told me your family had moved to Wisconsin."

Kiana stared at him, unable to speak for a moment or even close her gaping mouth. "I…I…how did you find them? I only heard of their move a fortnight ago…"

Harry shook his head and turned to stare at the large, red brick house in front of them. "It doesn't matter how I found them. You haven't returned to America in many years, and once I received permission for this short visit from Dumbledore, I knew what you were getting for Christmas."

Kiana breathed out deeply, still clinging onto his arm. "Oh Harry…I don't know what to say. I didn't think I'd ever…" She swallowed hard as her eyes burned with tears.  
Harry kissed her lightly before urging her forward. "You don't have to say anything, love. Go see your family. Don't worry; they can't see you."

The truth burned itself into her mind as she slowly crept up the driveway to her family's porch: if they saw her outside peering through the window, all they'd see would be a stranger. For their own safety, she couldn't explain anything to them, so the only way to see them now was while invisible.

It cut her deeply that she could no longer visit her family like a normal person. They had been told that Kiana Potter was alive and in England, but the truth of her closeness to Voldemort had to be kept secret. Kiana could not argue; it had been decided by Dumbledore long ago.

With tentative steps, Kiana moved through the snow drifts and up to the wide front window. She pressed her hands against the cold glass and leaned in to study the family gathered around the dining room table.

They were all there: her mother, stepfather, grandparents, brother, aunt, and cousins. They ate their Christmas Eve dinner joyfully with wide smiles. Her brother leaned in to whisper something to her mother, and her mom responded with a lively, eye-crinkling laugh. Her aunt joined in until everyone was giggling to themselves.

Kiana hadn't realized that watching her family live without her would be more painful than staying away. Suddenly she longed to leave, to pretend that she had never ventured to Wisconsin, but her feet would not obey. She stood pressed against the window, her breath creating a thick, warm fog on the glass.

She felt Harry wrap his arms around her. "I'm sorry, Kiana. I didn't know how painful this would be for you. We shouldn't stay; you're ill and it's freezing out here."

"No," she moaned, barely audible. "Not yet."

Harry didn't reply but pulled harder against her, and she knew she couldn't hold him off. She glanced one last time at her family and blew them a kiss. "I love you all," she whispered.

She feared it would be a long time before she saw them again.

Dumbledore greeted the news of Kiana's pregnancy with the same delight as Kiana had.

"Normally this would be a wonderful gift, but this pregnancy only makes your situation more precarious," Dumbledore told Kiana and Harry mournfully on Christmas Day. "The worst case scenario is Voldemort discovering your secret and thus increasing his efforts to get you. You can be certain that Voldemort would want the baby dead, unborn or born. Now we're trying to hide three of you, not just two."

"I know what you're thinking, Dumbledore," Kiana said, her tone crisp. "But I'm not having an abortion. I could not imagine doing that to my baby, let alone to myself or Harry. It would only make everything worse."

Dumbledore closed his eyes in meditation and didn't open them for a long while. "It's your decision, of course. I can't force you to do anything. But these next nine months will be difficult for you, Kiana, as you'll have to remain indoors twice as much. Even though no one has caught onto your disguise, we can't take the risk. I don't wish to place you on house arrest, but near the end of your pregnancy, that's what I'll have to do."

Harry rubbed her back as Kiana concentrated on breathing evenly. "You won't have to do this alone, Kiana," Harry told her. "I won't leave your side; I promise you."

Dumbledore left it at that, allowing the couple to make the decision whether or not to tell Ron and Hermione that evening at dinner.

"Not yet," Kiana said to her husband after Dumbledore had left. "They'll probably greet the news with more delight than I'm ready for. I need to get used to the reality myself before I share it with anyone else."

"It's up to you," Harry responded. "Everything now is up to you."

Kiana smiled and kissed him tenderly. Harry leaned back and allowed her to lie across him as they deepened the kiss.

"So I wonder," Harry spoke after they broke apart. "Will he look like me or you?"

Kiana blinked in surprise. "You're thinking about _that _already? And who says it'll look like…"

"You know that spell of Dumbledore's is only external," Harry interrupted with displeasure. "No magic can change who you are on the _inside _– your genes and DNA and such. Our baby will not be affected by the spell in the slightest."

Kiana groaned and rested her head on his chest. "You know I'm still not used to you reading my thoughts like that. It's rather disturbing, to say the least."

"I can't read everything," Harry defended himself, running his fingers through her red curls. "And it's only the strongest when I'm close to you. It doesn't work as flawlessly as you think it does."

Kiana closed her eyes and breathed in Harry's warmth. "Well that's good. I like being able to keep _some _secrets."

Harry remained silent, letting Kiana know that he disagreed. Kiana ignored him and allowed herself to relax on top of him, knowing he wasn't at all uncomfortable bearing her weight. Fatigue from the previous conversation with Dumbledore set in, and she drifted off in a few short minutes.

Harry watched his wife sleep with a furrowed brow, his thoughts now beyond the idea of a child coming into his life. Fears from their talk with Dumbledore rattled his mind, causing his body to tense. Kiana moaned in her sleep but didn't wake. Harry allowed the horrific thought to enter his mind – the thought of Voldemort discovering the baby and coming to kill it. If Kiana was still pregnant when the Dark Lord came, would killing the baby kill her, too? Or would Voldemort immediately try to turn her into an immortal spirit like himself? Would Harry, in turn, be left with a dead child and a possessed wife who could never return to him?

_Stop! _he commanded himself, squeezing his eyes shut as if to block all images. _Imagining the worst will not help anyone! You have to be strong, Harry; strong for Kiana and strong for your child. You have to protect them with your life. _

And he promised himself he would follow through. He promised himself that he would protect Kiana and his unborn baby with all the breath in his body, not letting any warnings pass him by that Voldemort was after them.

He tried not to focus on how difficult that promise would be.

"I'm going to the cinema with a few mates from work this evening."

Harry glanced up from his work on the couch as Kiana jotted down notes in her daily planner. Harry pursed his lips slightly at her words, feeling a jolt of anxiety rush through his gut. His nerves didn't simply come from the thought of her in public without him; he hated hearing her use British words and phrases so unintentionally. She had begun to ditch her American slang the moment Dumbledore had placed his spell upon her, and Harry knew that Kiana hated it because it only accentuated the changes in her. He refused to let her know that he felt the same way in order to spare her more pain. He had to pretend that everything about her was natural and normal.

"Is Hermione going with you?" he asked.

"I think so. She doesn't like the idea of me out in public alone, either; especially with Muggles as my only companions." Kiana sighed and stared out the window. "Honestly, I think all of you are too overprotective. Just because I'm pregnant now doesn't mean Voldemort is more likely to be lingering at the local pub."

"I don't think it's possible to be too overprotective right now, Kiana," Harry told her solemnly. "Do you want to put our child at risk in even the smallest way?"

Kiana bit the inside her cheek and didn't reply. Harry noticed her expression darken, and something inside him twisted. An unknown fear rose in his mind, and his instincts told him to force Kiana to stay at home. Although she spoke of her enthusiasm at becoming a mother, her mood since Christmas two weeks before spoke otherwise. Her thoughts became harder to read (the first warning sign for Harry), and she forced contentment and joy too often. Harry still couldn't figure out what darkened her mind, but he knew there was something else torturing her besides the fear of having a child.

He knew his anxiety over her secrets had reached a new height when he found himself considering – more than once – the thought of giving her Veritaserum (an action he had always been resolutely against).

When evening came and Kiana prepared to leave for the theater, Harry had made up his mind. He knew using Veritaserum was a greater crime than he could willingly manage, but perhaps a lesser misdeed would work…

"I'll be home late, so don't worry." Harry hardly heard her words as he contemplated over right and wrong. "Hermione will let you know if anything serious happens, but I don't want you staying up just in case…Harry?"

Harry shook his head to cast aside his thoughts. "What? Yes, Hermione will contact me; I know."

Kiana glanced suspiciously at him. "What are you thinking about?"

He struggled to compose a smile for her. "Nothing. Work stuff; not important."

Kiana hesitated a moment before grabbing her coat. "Okay, well…I'll see you in the morning."

So overwhelmed by his plans, Harry didn't notice she hadn't kissed him good-bye. After she left, he raced to the kitchen and grabbed his phone.

Ron answered on the second ring.

"What's up, Harry? Everything alright?"

Harry didn't bother to answer. "Do you still have that secret stash in your wardrobe?"

Ron hesitated. "Yes. Why? What do you need it for?"

Harry rolled his tongue across his teeth in deliberation, but he knew he had to continue if he didn't want to regret the missed opportunity. "Ron, I need you to keep a secret from Hermione…"

Kiana had not comprehended the plot of the movie, but she applauded herself for her top-notch acting. She laughed at her friends' jokes, listened attentively to their stories, and tried to smile as often as possible. Her friends didn't know her well enough to realize it was all an act. Her thoughts were secretly trapped on one sole person – Cedric. She wondered where he was, what he was doing, and if he had decided to officially leave Caerleon yet. She wondered how she would survive if he did leave. Would she ever truly smile again?

Hermione joined Kiana and her friends at the pub after the movie. After embracing her, Kiana introduced her to her friends: Laura, an introverted blonde; Olivia, a tall girl with an infectious laugh; and Katy, the closest friend to Kiana who worked during her shift at the bookstore.

"Do you live in Wales?" Katy asked Hermione as she received her second Scotch.

"No, I'm from England." Hermione refused a drink from the bartender and sat beside Kiana on a stool. "I've known Kiana for a few years now."

"Where did you two meet?" Laura asked, sipping on her vodka and coke.

Hermione looked expectantly at Kiana, giving her the chance to create the lie. "I holidayed in London for a month," Kiana finally responded. "We meet up at a club."

"Typical," Olivia taunted, slugging Kiana in the shoulder. "Kiana the party girl. When are you ever _not _in a club, Kiana?"

Kiana shrugged, her gaze straying longingly to the door. "You found my two hot spots, Olivia," she responded absentmindedly. "The bookstore and the club." She remembered how Cedric could sneak up on her at the strangest times, and she secretly hoped he'd walk through the pub door right then.

Hermione caught her glazed look and nudged her in the arm. "Kiana, are you looking for someone? I thought all of us were here."

"Shit!" Laura grabbed her mobile from her bag and raced her fingers across the keypad. The rest of the girls glanced at her with puzzlement, but Laura ignored them until Olivia waved a hand across Laura's face.

"Laura, what's your problem? Did you forget a date with your boyfriend again?" Olivia chuckled to herself.

"No!" Laura huffed, raising her phone to her ear. "I forgot to invite my friend Ronan to the film. He said he wanted to see…hold on." She paused and listened to a voice on the line before she hung up with a sigh. "He's not answering."  
"Ronan?" Katy asked with a frown. "I've never heard anything about a Ronan. Where'd you meet him?"

"At work. He came in to ask about a book series I'd never heard of, and I helped him find it. Anyway, he knows I always go to the pub on Saturday nights, so hopefully he'll show up."

Almost as soon as she'd finished, a tall, redheaded man entered the pub and caught Laura's gaze.

Laura's face lit up, and she waved enthusiastically. "Ronan! I knew you'd find us!"

The man smiled a little uncomfortably as he approached the girls and nodded in greeting. When his deep blue eyes landed on Kiana, her stomach twisted uncomfortably and she looked away without acknowledging him. Her mind screamed warnings, but she couldn't figure out why. She tried to suppress her irrational fears, but they refused to be thrust away.

Hermione frowned at Kiana's disrespect and smiled up at the stranger. "We're glad you could join us, Ronan. I'm Hermione, by the way. Would you like me to order you something?"

"No, thanks; I've had my fair share tonight," Ronan replied in a thick Dublin accent. "What're you ladies up to tonight?"

"Nothing much; we saw the film you talked about," Laura replied. "Sorry I forgot to invite you. You know how busy I've been lately! Say, how about we move to a table so we can chat more easily?"

After all six of them were situated around a square table at the far back of the pub, all the women except Kiana studied Ronan with fascination and fired off questions. After learning from Laura that he had lived in Dublin for most of his life before taking a job in Caerleon, Ronan tried to answer their questions about life in Ireland, his favorite sports, and what he did on the weekends. Kiana remained silent for the whole of the conversation but listened attentively to Ronan's answers. It seemed to her – or perhaps she was being overcritical – that the man either had a boring life or he didn't like to share every detail. He gave short answers to complex questions and didn't have an abundance of things to say about Ireland.

Hermione must have noticed his shyness, as well, because eventually she said, "Ronan, if I may be honest with you, it seems like you're uncomfortable tonight. You know that no one is forcing you to be here." She cast Laura a look, and Laura's mouth tightened with slight embarrassment.

Ronan's eyes widened and he shook his head. "Oh, no! No, I'm not uncomfortable at all. You're all lovely, really. I'm glad I came; Laura always has great things to say about each one of you." His eyes lingered on Kiana longer than on anyone else, but only Kiana and Hermione seemed to notice. Kiana's stomach knotted and she turned to ask the waiter for a glass of water.

"You're not drinking, either, Kiana?" Ronan asked.

"I'm on a diet," Kiana murmured. She successfully avoided gazing into his eyes. Perhaps it was because his eyes reminded her of Cedric's, but for some reason catching his eye made her head spin as if he had messed with her mind. Hermione (being especially observant that night), noticed Kiana's odd reactions and turned to whisper in her ear. "Are you alright, Kiana? Do you feel ill? Perhaps we should leave…"

"No, I'm fine, Hermione," Kiana muttered. "It's just morning sickness. It lasts all day."

Hermione frowned, and Kiana knew she didn't believe her. Ronan raised his eyebrows at them, apparently studying their hard expressions.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his eyes falling on Kiana again.

This time, Kiana forced her gaze to linger. Her head spun with the contact, but the sensation slowly dissipated with time. "It's nothing, Ronan," she replied rather stiffly. "So…where did you say you worked again?"

"Err…" Ronan blinked as if he didn't understand the question.

Laura frowned at his hesitance. "Down the street at that new restaurant, Kimberly's. Isn't that right?"

"Of course," Ronan replied hastily. "Sorry, I lost my mind for a moment."

Hermione suddenly seemed more interested in Ronan's responses than before. The rest of the night, she took over the interrogation and made the questions more and more personal. Kiana forgot her strange reaction to Ronan's presence and turned her attention to Hermione. She wondered why her friend had abruptly acquired such an intense fascination with Ronan. The other girls had been content with Ronan's simple answers, but Hermione dug deeper.

Ronan, too, surprised Kiana by asking her more intense questions. He asked how long she had known the other girls and what work at the bookstore was like. Kiana copied him by making her answers short and simple. He seemed displeased with her unremarkable replies, but she shrugged it off. She wasn't there to impress anyone.

She was, however, put out when he interjected, "You seem a little tense, Kiana. Is something on your mind?"

Kiana bristled and narrowed her gaze. "It's been a long day, Ronan. I'm sure you can understand that."

Her harshness shut him up, and surprisingly, Hermione didn't rebuke her.

By midnight, most of the girls were ready to go home, and Kiana walked with Hermione out of the pub. As they said their good-byes to the girls, Kiana grabbed Hermione by the elbow and muttered, "What was _that _about, Hermione? Yes, I know I wasn't the most polite either, but you questioned him to no end! I've never seen you so critical of a stranger."

It only increased Kiana's suspicion when Hermione opened and closed her mouth several times before she replied.

"I'm sorry, Kiana; you're right. I know better than that. I'm just…being paranoid."

Kiana studied her again before she shook her head. "Whatever; I don't want to know. I need to go to bed. My duvet sounds very appealing right now."

Ronan left the pub last, and when he said good-bye to them, Hermione cried out, "Ronan, where are you living again? I can give you a ride. I'll drop Kiana off and then take you home. You said yourself that you don't know the town very well…"

Ronan glanced from side to side and stepped away from Hermione as if fearful of her company. Kiana didn't blame him for his reluctance; Hermione hadn't exactly been cordial in the pub. "Err…thanks, but I'll grab a taxi. My flat isn't that…"

"No, no, I insist!" Hermione overstepped the invisible barrier between them and grabbed his arm. Kiana found her actions ill-mannered and slightly offensive, but she didn't wish to initiate an argument. Ronan, in fact, appeared terrified, but for some reason he allowed himself to be dragged into Hermione's car.

"Hermione, don't be ridiculous!" Kiana protested, standing outside the open passenger door. "Let the poor boy take a taxi…"

"They're too expensive," Hermione snapped, her temper flaring. "Now get _in_, Kiana, before I have to drag you in, too!"

Kiana could not comprehend the anger in Hermione's voice nor the tension on her face. It seemed like something or someone had pushed Hermione too far, and now the girl almost boiled with fury.

It was a very quiet and uncomfortable ride back. When Hermione pulled up to Kiana and Harry's apartment complex, Kiana could not get a word out before she was ushered out the door. She watched Hermione drive away with the sound of squealing tires echoing in the eerie silence of the neighborhood. Kiana stood outside her building for several minutes, trying and failing to solve the puzzle Hermione had created.


	11. Firstborn

Chapter Eleven: Firstborn

In the absence of love, there is nothing worth fighting for.

- **Elijah Wood**

"What were you _thinking? _No, let me rephrase…why were you _not _thinking?"

Harry Potter had never felt as uncomfortable speaking with Hermione as he did then, trapped in Hermione and Ron's kitchen in London. His body had returned to normal, though Hermione had waited until it did, just to humiliate Harry further. Nothing sounded more appealing to him than crawling into bed with Kiana right then. He was immensely grateful that Hermione had not unveiled his identity to Kiana outside the pub, but his gratification quickly lessened as Hermione criticized him like an enraged mother.

"Your rashness scares me, Harry!" she continued, pacing the kitchen in a frenzy. "The way you fooled with Laura's mind to make her believe she knew you was bad enough. But you also didn't consider Kiana at allwhen you decided to invade her personal life like you had every right…"

"I was _worried_ about her, Hermione!" Harry shouted, overcoming his humiliation enough to defend himself. "She's been drifting away from me ever since Dumbledore…had to change her." His tone dropped suddenly, and Hermione caught enough sorrow in his voice to stop pacing and lose some of her rage.

She spoke sympathetically this time. "Harry, I know how hard this has been for you both, but doing such an immature…"

"If Ron was depressed and didn't want you to find out, would you go to any lengths necessary to help him? To find out what was really going on?"

Hermione sighed and covered her face with both hands. "Yes, but that's…"

"Exactly what's happening now!" Harry interrupted angrily. "I want to help her in any way I can, but she refuses to show weakness in front of me. I don't understand it; it used to be so much easier to read her, and now she's like a walking stone. What did I do wrong, Hermione? How did I fail her?"

Hermione lost all tension in her face and knelt at Harry's side. She took his hands between hers and looked up into his eyes. "You haven't _failed _her, Harry; don't ever think that! We can never completely understand all Kiana's going through because we're not experiencing anything like it ourselves. For years now she's had to remain abroad, cut off from family, friends and her heritage because of a threat greater than all of us. Now she's lost her physical appearance and other perceivable elements that made her _her. _It's no wonder she feels lost."

She sighed and ran her thumb over their entwined hands. "But that only creates more room for you to come in and comfort her, Harry. You're one of her only supports in this mad world; you're what keeps her here and stable. If she loses you, she loses everything she's living for now. And that's the truth. Don't make her feel more isolated by doing stupid stunts like this. She needs to be able to trust you."

Groaning, Harry loosened his hands from her grip and buried his face between them. "How could I be so _stupid_, Hermione? If she had found out…_if _she finds out…"

"She won't," Hermione promised earnestly. "I'll make sure of that. And if this Ronan never appears in her life again, she'll easily forget about him altogether."

"I don't deserve such an easy out," Harry admitted. "I deserve to be publicly humiliated for deceiving her like that."

Hermione allowed a solemn, thoughtful silence to surround the kitchen before she rose and looked down at her best friend with sorrowful eyes. "Go back to her, Harry. Go back to her and forget this ever happened. She just needs your love and support now. Nothing else."

Harry nodded slowly with increased determination. "I can give her that. That's all I've ever wanted to give her."

After Harry had climbed into bed with Kiana later that night, he pulled her closer to him, and his movements awoke her. She blinked sleepily at him and reached up to caress his cheek. "You're late," she mumbled.

He kissed her lightly. "I'm sorry, Kiana. Please, please forgive me."

She frowned, her forehead knotted with confusion. "I wasn't asking you to apologize…"

"I know. I'm not apologizing for that." He sighed heavily and buried his face in her chest, inhaling her sweet scent.

"Then what are you…"

"Don't worry about it, love; just please accept my apology? It'll torture me if you don't."

Kiana attempted to decode his words, but soon she shook her head in surrender. "Don't say such things when I'm half-asleep. But yes, I forgive you. Of course I do."

Harry kissed her again. "Thank you. That means the world to me."

It wasn't until her fifth month of pregnancy when the baby became real to Kiana. She stopped thinking of it as a microscopic being sucking up blood and food from inside her. Now it was a baby – a real, moving, thumb-sucking baby. She felt it kick for the first time one day as she shopped for yet another mystery novel, and the sudden butterfly-like movements stopped her in her tracks. She immediately detoured in the bookshop and went to the pregnancy and childcare section. She bought four books on pregnancy and infant care, wondering why she hadn't done so four months ago.

Harry watched her body change with fervent attention, and his questions grew worse after he learned Kiana could feel the baby moving. He wanted to know everything – how many times a day the baby kicked, if she talked to it during the day, and if she had developed any weird cravings. Kiana indulged his curiosity at first, but soon she grew tired of talking about the baby.

Harry probably had known it long before (because of that darn connection Kiana tried not to think about), but she wasn't always thrilled with the idea of a baby. Besides the stressful thoughts of sleepless nights and diaper changes, she feared how long she'd have to remain trapped inside with an infant. Dumbledore hadn't spoken of his plans for her postpartum, but she knew he wouldn't allow her to have total free reign of the world. Would she have to pretend for strangers that she hadn't had a baby at all? Or would she have to put her baby in full-time daycare so she could regain a somewhat normal life while keeping the baby safe?

Most importantly, how long would she and Harry have to remain in Caerleon?

All these questions flew through her mind one evening when Dumbledore sat her down to explain his new plans. He told her that she should remain indoors most of the day now that she was showing. "I don't want the town to know you're pregnant," he said. "That would only bring up curiosity at who the father is. This is more about keeping Harry's identity a secret than anything else right now."

"How long will this go on, Dumbledore? When can Harry and I return to England? I'm worried about how this change is affecting him. He misses his home, too." Kiana hoped she didn't sound too distressed. She didn't want to sound ungrateful for all Dumbledore had done for her and Harry.

Dumbledore reached over and placed a consoling hand on her shoulder. "Kiana, I know how hard this is for you, especially since you're still living in the body of a stranger. But I don't want to return you to England until I know for sure that Voldemort isn't after you. Hearing so little from Severus, unfortunately, only makes me uneasy. The most danger can come from days like these when we don't know where Voldemort is or what he's planning."

Kiana didn't bring up the subject of leaving Caerleon again. Harry sensed her stress and told her that he didn't care where in the world they lived as long as they lived together. Kiana didn't quite believe him, but she didn't want to continue talking about things they had no control over.

The thing she enjoyed most about her pregnancy, however, was how cute Harry became with her growing stomach. At night, he'd whisper things to the baby (claiming it was a secret between only them), and sometimes he'd read to it so it heard his voice often. Harry continued the nightly reading sessions once learning Kiana enjoyed it, too.

One change that occurred with her pregnancy did not bring Kiana joy. Her dreams turned dark and gloomy, and unperceivable shadows floated across the black space, their hidden identities chilling Kiana the most. Once, she heard the shadows whisper to her, but she tuned them out. She thrust the dreams from her mind during the day, forcing herself to keep upbeat for Harry. He continued to be perceptive of her emotions, and this forced her to fake her feelings more often.

But she could not fake her terror at one nightmare that flooded her mind during her seventh month of pregnancy.

She was back in the gloomy forest with the shadows, but this time one shadow became real to her. Its form solidified until it became a boy with black hair. At first glance, Kiana thought it was a younger form of Harry, but then the boy faced her, and his deep brown eyes flashed – the exact shade of her eyes.

His gaze mesmerized her, but terror struck her heart at the coldness in it. His small lips twitched into a sneer, and he glared at her with inhuman detestation. Kiana had never seen such hatred in a child; he became more demon than human to her.

"Mother." His cold voice matched his expression. Chills raced up Kiana's arms, and she stepped back involuntarily. Having him call her by such a name did nothing to erase her fear. This boy couldn't be her child.

"What have you done, Mother?" His wide, maddening eyes never blinked. "Your weakness destroyed everything for me. We had it all, you and I – but now you and my father destroyed what was ours. We could've been so much more, Mother. Now the Dark Lord has to take it all…including me."

"No," she breathed, feeling her heart weaken. "No, you don't understand. I didn't try to...please, I love you!"

The child laughed high and cold, reminiscent of Voldemort. "It's too late for your love, Mum. It's your love that killed my father and brought me into the world without considering my safety. I hope you'll realize your deadly mistake when you and I are forced to obey the Dark Lord's commands for the rest of eternity."

"NO!"

Her feet hit the ground, and she was running, running toward an unknown destination, but she didn't stop to think about her actions. She screamed and cried for her son, but he was gone. He disappeared and became one of the shadows.

Someone grabbed her from behind, and she screamed, kicking and tugging to free herself. Salty tears entered her mouth as she fought with all her strength, but his hold was stronger than hers, and he forced her to look into his eyes…

Harry's face entered her vision, and Kiana collapsed with exhaustion onto the bedroom floor. She twisted away from Harry's hold, but her fatigue drained her and she couldn't resist him. She screamed and cried against his chest, never letting the image of her demon child leave her mind.

Kiana did not remember her dream the following morning, and Harry didn't remind her of it. He didn't know what she had dreamt, but he grasped something about a child from the words she had screamed. He was thankful she had forgotten it; he didn't want her tortured with the images during the long hours of the day, especially now when she had nothing to do but stay in the house.

Harry tried to follow Dumbledore's orders by staying by Kiana's side most of the day while invisible, but his duties at the Ministry interrupted his plans. Miles Heckman did not know of the chaos in Harry's life, and he worked Harry more aggressively each day. More days than Harry wished to admit, he considered deserting his dreams of becoming an Auror. At least for the time being, he could hardly cope with everything being thrown at him. Dumbledore gave him sympathy, but the old headmaster could not help him. Harry had to gain new strength each day on his own to fight whatever the dawn brought.

But this task became more and more tiresome, especially as Kiana's due date approached. Dumbledore wouldn't allow Harry to tell anyone at the Ministry that his firstborn would be arriving soon, so paternity leave was out of the question. Kiana supported him the best she could, but they both looked upon their baby's birthday with a strange mix of dread and anticipation.

They were required to have a secluded home birth because of the risk of placing Kiana in a public hospital. A member of the inner group at the Ministry (who knew Dumbledore had returned) was told of the situation, and she agreed to visit with the future parents. The Auror's name was Beatrice, and she had been a Muggle midwife long before becoming part of the Ministry. After interviewing her for an hour, Harry and Kiana allowed her to assist at the birth.

"What is your role in the birth, Mr. Potter?" Beatrice asked before taking her leave.

Harry and Kiana exchanged a glance. "Err…we haven't discussed that yet," Harry murmured after a moment.

"Well, talk it over and let me know your plans," Beatrice replied cheerily. "Give me a ring when you start having contractions, Kiana. I'll be available at a moment's notice."

Kiana smiled. "Thank you, Beatrice. We really appreciate all you're doing for us, and we also appreciate your secrecy."

"I'm an Auror," the midwife said with shrug. "Secrecy is my life."

After she left, Kiana turned to Harry with raised eyebrows. "What _is _your plan for the birth, Harry? I assume you'll be in the background, otherwise you wouldn't have been as eager to welcome Beatrice into our house."

"You're bloody right I couldn't deliver the baby myself!" Harry grunted. "I may as well be a couch for how helpful I'll be when you're in labor. I won't like seeing you in that much pain and I know I won't handle it heroically."

Kiana kissed him reassuringly on the lips. "Can you promise to at least hold my hand? And maybe make a pot of tea?"

"You actually want me in the kitchen?" Harry joked.

Kiana chuckled and wrapped her arms around his waist. "For this, I'll make an exception; though you might prolong my labor if you start a fire and interrupt my meditative breathing."

Kiana's contractions began three weeks after Beatrice was pronounced the Potters' midwife. Harry had another late night at the Ministry, so Kiana walked around their small apartment by herself, trying to breathe through the mild pains.

Two hours after her water broke, Kiana grabbed her phone and called Beatrice's emergency number. "It's been about two hours, and the pains are getting stronger." Kiana leaned against the couch's arm as she struggled to speak through the ache. "But don't rush, Beatrice; first labors take the longest. It could be another ten hours before the baby's born."

Regardless of her words, Beatrice Apparated into the sitting room fifteen minutes later. The petite, short-haired woman rushed to her side, her cheeks already flushed. "How's it going, love? Do you need me to ring your husband?"

Kiana shook her head slowly as she straightened up from her crouched position on the couch. She waited until the contraction had passed before speaking. "No, please don't. This may last for awhile more, and I don't want Harry pacing the house for that long. That would drive me absolutely mad! You can contact him when I feel the end is close."

Beatrice pursed her lips in silent disagreement. "What can I do for you, then?"

Kiana breathed slowly in and out as she leaned against the wall and swayed her hips in rhythm with the fierce pain tearing through her back. After it lessened, she said, "Put the kettle on for now. As long as the pain is manageable – which it is now – I want to be alone. I may stay in the shower for awhile, as well. I'll call you when it gets bad."

"Alright," Beatrice responded. "Make sure you call me the instant you feel the need to, _not _when you're into active labor. I've heard plenty about you, Kiana - you need to learn how to lean on people and not take all the pain onto yourself."

Kiana smiled at the woman's forceful honesty. "I will, Beatrice. I promise."

Four hours later, almost near midnight, a piercing cry from the bedroom jolted Beatrice from her novel. The midwife sprinted into the master bedroom to find Kiana on all fours on the carpet, her head hung low as she struggled to overcome the searing pain.

"Kiana! Kiana, are you pushing?"

Beatrice rushed to her side and pressed her face up against the laboring woman's.

A minute passed before Kiana could respond. She screamed again and again, her fierce, ripping cries straining Beatrice's ears. Her body shook with each contraction, and sweat pooled on her forehead.

"No!" Kiana cried in response. "But it's…_real _bad now! I don't know - FUCK! - how much more I can take!"

"Let me check you," Beatrice calmly replied. "Turn onto your back…there you go. Keep breathing and don't tense up. We need the baby to keep moving downward."

Beatrice's eyes widened after her analysis. "The baby's head is right there, Kiana! I can feel it! You're ten centimeters dilated…are you ready to push?"

Kiana moaned, her face screwed up in pain, and nodded. "Harry…" She gasped as she felt the baby bear down hard against her. "Where's Harry?"

"Dammit!" Beatrice hissed. "Why didn't we call him sooner?" She thrust her wand from her pocket and sent her Patronus – a silver dove – soaring above their heads before it vanished in a misty haze.

In five seconds, Harry Apparated beside them, his eyes wide and anxious as he took in the scene before him.

"Kiana. Kiana, love, I'm here." He knelt down beside her and brushed damp hair from her face. She hardly acknowledged his presence as the pain overcame her, sending her into another realm entirely. She experienced nothing except the tearing agony inside her.

Harry jerked his head to Beatrice. "Is she pushing already?"

Beatrice nodded distractedly. No fear or dismay showed upon her calm features.

"Why wasn't I called sooner?" Harry shouted, though Kiana's next scream covered up most of his words.

"Shut _up, _Harry, and take my hand!" Kiana hissed through clenched teeth, blindly grasping for his hand.

Harry's displeasure vanished as he glanced between her legs and saw a mass of dark hair descend toward Beatrice's hands.

"Oh my god," he breathed, entranced.

Kiana shrieked and jerked her legs in the air. Beatrice grasped her feet and pulled her legs down. "Kiana, you're almost there; this is the worst of it! I know how much it burns, but you have to go past that ring of fire with all the strength you have left. Push through the pain and soon you'll have your baby in your arms."

Kiana shook her head incessantly. "No…" she moaned. "No, I can't. It's too much…"

Harry leaned forward and kissed her face. "You're _so _close; I can see its hair! You can do it, Kiana; I know how strong you are."

Tears fell from Kiana's closed, tight eyelids as she shook her head again.

"Please, Kiana. Do it for me." Harry pressed his palm against her cheek.

With eyes still closed, Kiana took several deep breaths before she lurched forward and used all her remaining strength to thrust her infant from the only world it had ever known.

"That's it Kiana; you're doing it!" Beatrice shrieked. In one breathtaking moment, the baby thrust its head outward until its small, squished face hit the air.

Struck mute, Harry watched his firstborn child enter the world. Kiana gave one final push, and the rest of the baby's body flew into Beatrice's waiting arms.

Quickly and methodically, Beatrice suctioned mucus out of the infant's mouth and nose until the baby took its first few breaths and screamed with powerful intensity. Its little lungs were visible beneath taunt pink skin as it shrieked its outrage to the world.

Kiana's eyes shot open, and she instinctively held out her arms. Laying a blanket over the mother's deflated stomach, Beatrice rested the squealing infant on the soft fabric and helped Kiana rub its skin clean.

Emotions overwhelmed Harry at the sight, and tears pooled in his eyes as he watched Beatrice swaddle his baby and lay it in Kiana's arms.

"It's a boy," he whispered. "Kiana, we have a son!"

Kiana smiled up at him as she brushed tears from her own eyes. "Congratulations, Daddy."

Harry wrapped his arm around his wife and slowly held out a finger to stroke his son's soft, plump cheeks. Harry grinned when the baby grasped his finger with a small fist.

The infant, quiet now and warmed by the blanket, seemed to recognize his parents as his deep brown eyes darted back and forth.

"He's beautiful," Harry said with a heavy sigh. "You were _amazing_, Kiana; bloody amazing! I can't believe it…" He studied his child's face with wonder and love. A deep protective urge overcame him, strengthening him and concreting his promise to keep his family away from harm. He'd fight for them both until all breath left his body.

"What are you naming him?" Beatrice spoke up, reminding Harry and Kiana of her presence.

The new parents locked eyes, and Harry kissed his wife again. "It's all you, Kiana. Tell her your pick."

"Darrin," Kiana whispered, stroking her baby's soft hair. "Darrin James Potter."

Harry smiled. "I think it suits him."


	12. Night Flight

Chapter Twelve: Night Flight

Love is a force more formidable than any other.  
It is invisible - it cannot be seen or measured -  
yet it is powerful enough to transform you in  
a moment, and offer you more  
than any material possession ever could.

**-**** Barbara De Angelis, Ph.D.**

The dimples, the chin, the jet black hair…it was all Harry's. Kiana could've been looking at a miniature clone of her husband if it weren't for Darrin's eyes.

They were her eyes – a deep brown that sparkled in the right light.

"My son is going to get the exact same comments as I did for years," Harry said the night after his son's birth.

"What's that?" Kiana glanced up as Darrin latched onto her breast for a night feed.

"'You look like your father, except for your eyes; you have your mother's eyes,'" Harry quoted with a smirk.

Kiana chuckled. "At least you can be reassured that _you're _the father."

Harry raised his thick eyebrows. "Was I supposed to have doubts?"

Kiana shrugged with a teasing smile. "Well, I forgot to tell you of that one night when Draco Malfoy stopped by to deliver…"

"Will I ever hear the _end _of Malfoy?" Harry whined, covering his ears with a groan.

Kiana just laughed, though a blond male did appear in her mind…a blond completely opposite from Malfoy. Her heart lurched at the image, and she returned her attention to her breastfeeding baby. She tried to avoid Harry's direct gaze the rest of the night.

Kiana sighed when Harry later excused himself for bed, and her sudden relaxation startled her. What had happened to her? Why could she never relax in Harry's presence? It was like he wasn't her husband anymore. Why did Cedric have such powerful control over her thoughts and emotions?

Cedric's deep voice came unwanted into her mind: _"Do not make the same mistakes I did, Kiana. Make sure that every decision you make brings you contentment. I wouldn't wish to see you living a mediocre life."_

Kiana did not return to bed that night. Instead, she remained on the couch with her newborn son, sobbing into his thick, soft hair and willing the morning to never come.

Hermione and Ron came to see Darrin two days after he was born, and although Kiana wasn't feeling up to visitors, she didn't have the heart to send them away.

"You both certainly make beautiful babies," Ron commented with a grin as he ruffled Darrin's thick, unruly hair. "Ever consider creating a baby-making business?"

Harry laughed as he placed an arm around Kiana on the couch. "What, make babies just to sell them to the highest bidder?"

"Why not?" Ron replied. "Besides making a fortune, you'd also allow for the possibility of some of them making it as child models or actors. Their looks would certainly land them in a catalog of some sort. You'd be famous in the Muggle world, too!"

Hermione rolled her eyes and took Darrin from her husband's arms. She cradled him lovingly, making soft cooing noises, and Kiana watched her with a smile. How natural Hermione looked with her baby, like she had been waiting all her life for an infant to snuggle against her chest.

"The baby-making machines were supposedly closed until further notice," Kiana added with a smirk. "But Darrin is the result of a…miscalculation."

Hermione shrugged her words off. "I couldn't ask for a better 'oops baby'; could you? So what if he didn't come at the best time? If you hadn't gotten pregnant when you did, Kiana, Darrin wouldn't be here. Strange how that all works, isn't it?"

Harry nodded before casting curious eyes at Ron. "You speak of _us _creating beautiful babies, but I haven't seen any little ginger-haired tots running through the garden."

Ron narrowed his eyes slightly. "The current functioning of _our _baby-making machines is not up for discussion, Potter. Let's just say that you shouldn't search for a ginger-haired anklebiter anytime soon…"

"I thought you'd be the first to get pregnant, Hermione." Kiana arched her eyebrows in surprise. "You're so _brilliant _with children."

Hermione blushed and glanced back down at Darrin. "Thanks, Kiana, but I want to hold off a year or two until we're more financially stable."

Harry snorted. "Are those your words or Ron's?"

Hermione glowered at him. "We _both _decided, Harry. We only recently moved into our flat and still have unpacked boxes lying about. But I want to hear more about Darrin's birth, Kiana. I'm certainly glad everything went alright with Beatrice. I was concerned that the stubbornness of some people…" She cast a not-so-subtle glare at Harry. "…would destroy the experience."

Harry's eyes widened slightly, and his jaw noticeably tightened. Kiana frowned and twisted toward her husband. "What's this all about? Harry?"

Harry didn't meet her eyes. "Nothing to bother with, Kiana. Some people just don't know how to keep their mouths shut."

Hermione shrugged nonchalantly, ignoring Harry's furious stares.

Hermione and Ron stayed for supper, and before Hermione and Ron left for the night, Kiana quickly steered Hermione aside and asked her about the strange exchange between her and Harry.

Hermione sighed and glanced around the corner. "I don't think Harry would be happy with me…"

"Don't worry about that," Kiana interjected. "You know I hate not knowing information purposely kept from me."

"Fine, alright." Hermione shook her head with a thin-lipped scowl. "I've known about this connection between you and Harry for quite awhile now…" Kiana frowned at this news but didn't interrupt. "…and I feared how much pain Harry would experience when you went into labor. Just as a precaution, I spoke to Dumbledore about it, and he directed me toward instructions for a certain potion that would hopefully suppress the pain transferred to him. We didn't know how well it would work, but it was better than nothing."

"So what was the problem?" She caught herself mid-sentence and gasped. "No! He didn't want to take it, did he?"

Hermione shook her head gloomily. "No. He spoke some rubbish about 'not wishing to put all the pain on you', and saying it was 'his duty as the father to suffer with you.' Ron and I pressured him for awhile, but when he utterly refused to take the potion willingly, I told him that I would get you on our side and have you pressure him if he didn't obey. That worked straightaway, because for some reason he's against discussing any topic with you surrounding your connection."

Kiana didn't know how to respond, and luckily she didn't have to. Ron announced that he wanted to leavebefore it darkened, and Hermione ushered Kiana out of their hiding spot and met the boys by the front door.

Kiana's cell phone vibrated the moment Hermione and Ron had Disapparated back to England. Harry glanced at it curiously, but Kiana shielded the screen as soon as she recognized the number.

Harry frowned at her secrecy. "Who is it?"

"Katy from the bookstore," Kiana murmured distractedly. She shooed Harry away and listened to her voice message. Her skin prickled as Cedric's voice floated into her ear.

"Meet me in Cardiff at the _Morning Glory Café _whenever you're available this evening. My office in London pushed my assignment up, and I have to leave Wales by tomorrow evening. I want to say good-bye to you face-to-face. Please, Kiana. I need to see you."

Without warning, tears stung her eyes, and Kiana instinctively shielded them with a hand.

"Kiana?" Harry tried to pull her hand away, but Kiana twisted away, and – keeping her face turned from his – she grabbed her purse and car keys. "I have to go, Harry. Now. It's an emergency."

"_Now?_" Harry gaped at her. "What about Darrin? He'll be hungry soon."

"I have pumped milk in the fridge. I shouldn't be more than a few hours." She kept her voice low and unemotional, trying to blink away the tears.

Connection or no connection, her distress could not be hid from him. She knew that looking directly into his eyes would destroy her and then he'd never allow her to leave. She had to mask her expression the way Harry did whenever something troubled him.

When he turned her toward him, she concentrated on the bridge of his nose and didn't allow him to weaken her.

"I'm a fool if I let you run off into the night so distressed," Harry told her harshly. "Who's the call from, Kiana?"

She bit down hard on her tongue, and Harry shook her slightly. "You know you can't lie to me, Kiana. Who are you going to see?"

Those simple, true words – _you know you can't lie to me_ – struck her hard. The unfairness of their connection (especially how it was one-sided), had never seemed as harsh as it did then. She tensed in his grip and jerked away, and surprisingly he let her go. Something mad must have appeared on her face, for suddenly fear shown on her husband's face. He backed up a step and studied her with wide eyes.

"I will explain everything later if you will just let me go," she spoke in a low hiss. All her tears had dried as hot rage flashed through her.

He knew she wasn't being entirely truthful, and he reached out to her, but she backed up quickly. His face was torn, and she knew how strongly the battle of wills occurred in his mind. She prayed he would listen to her…just this once.

When he didn't speak, she repeated her request. "Let me _go_, Harry. Please. I'll be back by midnight."

Harry swallowed hard and, ever so slowly, nodded. "Not one minute past midnight."

Without thanking him, she spun on her heel and raced for their car parked out front. She never thought she'd be so grateful to get into the driver's seat.

She found him waiting patiently outside the café in Cardiff, though as she ran closer, she noticed his stiff jaw and calculating gaze. He smiled, however, when he saw her and took her hand.

"Come on. I have something to show you."

Kiana stuttered as Cedric pulled her away from the café. "B..but I thought…"

"You think me obsessed with cafés if you thought we were dining at yet another one." Cedric cast a smirk as they ran, and Kiana lost track of their direction as she focused on his hypnotizing eyes.

Before she could focus on their coordinated movements, Cedric brought her to a halt at the edge of a wide cliff. Kiana staggered and blinked several times, turning around to survey the moonlit area.

"Cedric…where are we?"

Cedric motioned for her to look downward, and she obeyed. She shrieked when she found themselves at the top of, not a cliff, but a waterfall. Overwhelming facts rushed into her mind, and she stepped back from Cedric's side and gazed at him with renewed terror.

"What? You don't like it?" Cedric smiled teasingly, ignoring her terrified eyes. "I thought you were a fan of waterfalls. I thought we'd take one final jump before I left."

Kiana shook her head and closed her eyes as the pounding in her forehead strengthened. "No, it's not…" She stopped to catch her breath. She realized she was beginning to hyperventilate. "Cedric, why didn't you tell me?"

Cedric comprehended her cryptic words instantly. He looked away and shrugged casually. "It wasn't appropriate at the time."

Kiana leaned against a nearby tree, her breath coming in raspy gasps as her thoughts flowed out through her mouth. "So you know I'm one, too? How did you know? Do you know…who my husband is?" That last question gripped her the hardest, sending panic reeling into her body.

Cedric was beside her in a second, his breath hot and heavy on her face as he brushed a few curls from her face. "Shh. I didn't mean to upset you like this, love. I'm sorry. It doesn't matter how or how much I know. All that matters is that you're here…alone…with me, and for this one moment, you're all mine."

The next moment his lips were upon hers, and her body – drunk off his scent and warmth – eagerly accepted all of him. She closed her eyes and clung tightly to him, kissing him back with all the passion she usually restrained in his presence. His lips wandered to her cheek, her throat, her collarbone…and she didn't possess one thought of stopping him. She merely leaned back against the tree and willed him to never stop.

Time drifted away from Kiana, transforming into one large space of nothingness where nothing existed besides her and Cedric. She ignored all pangs of weariness and kissed him as if the night would continue forever.

But she had only given birth less than thirty-six hours ago, and her body wasn't strong enough for the love Cedric bestowed upon her. She fell asleep on his chest, listening to the mysterious noises of the night. She willed the stars to bless her and the man who held her heart.

Kiana never thought for one moment about the other man waiting for her, and her husband's fear and concern increased the more minutes she stayed away.

The stars were still out when Kiana awoke. She gazed upwards with a smile and ran her hands across Cedric's bare chest to confirm he was still there.

But her fantasy world shattered when she remembered her promise to Harry: she would return by midnight.

"FUCK!"

Bolting off him, Kiana stood upright clumsily and scoured their location in one quick motion. "Cedric, I have to get home! Harry's going to kill me _twice _for this! Where the hell are we?"

Cedric jumped to his feet with the agility she lacked. "Don't worry, Kiana. Take my hand and we'll be back before you can start running."

Pouring all her trust into him, Kiana took his outstretched hand and, before she could blink twice, they stood amongst the trees nearest the Potter home.

Instantly, Cedric backed away from the bright house lights, and Kiana grabbed his forearm. "_No! _You are _not _leaving me now, Cedric. We had so little time together…"

His familiar humor vanished as Cedric gazed with distrust at her home. "Kiana, I can't stay. I can't let your husband see me."

Kiana caught powerful meaning beneath his forceful words, but she didn't try to decode it. She stared desperately into his eyes. "Then stay hidden here for a few minutes. Harry will scream at me and then send me to bed, and I'll Apparate here once he hears the bedroom door shut. Then we can say a proper…good-bye." She swallowed hard before silently pleading with him with her strong gaze. He slowly nodded.

"Alright," he murmured. "But if you're not back in fifteen minutes, I'm leaving."

Kiana clenched her teeth but didn't argue. She decided to walk through the front door instead of Apparating into the sitting room; that way she'd have a second more to prepare herself for the onslaught awaiting her. She didn't know exactly how Harry would react when she walked through the door, but she could sense tension in the air even before she entered the house. (She still didn't know the time, but the sky confirmed that dawn was quickly approaching).

The hurt and disappointment on his face was more powerful than a flying curse. Harry glared up at her from the couch, his eyes screaming and cursing her like his voice did not. The hairs on Kiana's arms rose as she slowly closed the front door and leaned against it. Her heart's beats pounded in her ears, and Harry kept her eyes glued on him as if he had spoken a spell.

They remained this way for at least a minute, though the seconds felt like hours to Kiana. She tried to breathe evenly, but his gaze shot fear through her like poison, and she could not focus on anything except him.

At last, he spoke. His voice matched the darkness in his eyes. "I don't know everything that happened tonight, but I know you weren't with any normal mate of yours. I know you left the country, too; Dumbledore contacted me with the news. Did you really not expect to be magically tracked considering the danger you're in?"

Kiana's previous rage at the injustice of their connection returned, and she gritted her teeth. "So my privacy is forfeited, then?"

Harry rose and crossed the room in one swift movement. He leaned in close but did not touch her. Kiana knew he would never hurt her, but right then, his maddening expression was more painful than if he had slapped her.

"Nothing in your _private life_ should be as dangerous as this," Harry hissed. "And I know it is, Kiana. You're deliberately putting yourself in danger, and I need to know why. I also need to know who the hell is standing outside our house waiting for you."

Kiana's breath froze in her chest. Her jaw shook with the grief she refused to release, and she tried to glare back at her husband with every ounce of will she had. "If you had _any _clue as to who is standing outside, you wouldn't come at me like this. The man waiting for me is carefree and open-minded…everything you're not!"

Harry's frown deepened, and he reached for her face. Instinctively, Kiana knew he was trying hard to delve further into her mind. She spun out of his reach and raced to the other side of the room. Her jaw shook now, not with grief, but with growing rage.

Harry raised his palms to her, and his voice softened a bit. "Kiana, you know I won't hurt you. I'm just trying to understand why you're acting like this. This isn't like you…"

She thrust a finger in his direction and cried out, contempt piercing

her words. "The hell you don't wish to hurt me! For the past few months, all you've been is overprotective and critical of every step I take. I may be married to you, Harry Potter, but I'm not your _charge. _I don't need to be minded like a toddler, and maybe you'll finally realize that when you're sitting in your house tomorrow completely alone!"

Drops of rain burst through the growing dark clouds as Kiana Apparated to the trees outside the house. She didn't see Cedric right away, but she sensed he was close. She prayed he'd escape before Harry saw him.

"Cedric, run!"

Harry appeared at her side and grabbed her arm before she could try and escape. He flashed his lit wands into the woods and cried the spell at the shadow before them. "_Petrificus totalus!" _

His spell missed by inches, but Cedric did not run. Harry flashed his wand onto the man's face, and Cedric's stiff features came into focus. Harry gasped and almost dropped his wand. He regained composure quickly, but he could not wipe the shock from his face.

"Cedric?" Harry whispered.

Kiana moaned and staggered on the spot as a dizzying wave of nausea hit her. She couldn't comprehend anything happening before her. Nothing made sense…

Cedric didn't respond but stared vacantly at him, and Harry's face tensed. "What have you done to Kiana?"

These words shook Kiana out of her daze. She pulled against his tight grip on her arm, but he didn't seem to notice. "No, Harry; he didn't do anything to me! He…"

"Enough, Kiana!" Harry screamed.

Cedric's gaze locked on hers, and instantly, a deep, powerful yearning spread through her, overtaking everything else in her mind and body. She almost cried out at him, but he spoke first. "I'll come back for you."

Before she could take in his words, Cedric spun on the spot and darted away with alarming, inhuman speed. Harry released her and raced after him, but within seconds, Cedric was gone.

Tears which Kiana had held back for so long rushed down her face.


	13. The Parting

Chapter Thirteen: The Parting

The heart has reasons that reason does not understand.

**- Jacques Benigne Bossuel**

Kiana knew the moment Cedric vanished that Harry would control every second of her life. Her freedom was gone, her privacy was nonexistent, and she probably would be trapped inside the house until Darrin was a toddler.

What she was not prepared for was the absolute torture on Harry's face. After he forced her to Apparate back inside the house, he released her and leaned wearily against the couch, his entire body shaking with a mix of violent emotions.

Kiana sobbed quietly beside the door. She wrapped her arms around herself, trying and failing to dispel the evil chill that suffocated her.

After watching Harry suffer under thoughts she could not hear, she cried out in a broken voice, "Harry, please!" She didn't know what she was begging for – for him to speak? For him to reveal her punishment? For him to cast her into a deep sleep where she could forget everything?

He glanced up with glazed, vacant eyes. The anguish exerting from him was indescribable – it was like Voldemort had possessed him and now delivered unending suffering to his mind and body. Kiana wept at the pain she had given him, knowing it was all her fault.

But even after witnessing the consequences of her actions, she didn't regret any moment she had spent with Cedric.

Harry must have read this conclusion in her mind, for suddenly a glimmer of tears burned in his eyes. "You love him, don't you?"

Kiana choked on a rising sob and lowered her gaze. Having silently confirmed his deepest fear, she watched as Harry stared out the window with an empty expression. Kiana longed for the right words to say, but she knew in her heart nothing could be done to erase the truth.

But Harry's internal suffering seemed to transfer to her, and she almost crumbled to the floor in grief.

"Harry…" She could hardly speak through her sobs.

He didn't face her. He seemed to have died there by the window.

"Harry, please talk to me."

His lips tightened. "Leave me, Kiana."

"No, Harry…"

His face hardened into a chilling glare, and he flashed raging eyes at her. "_LEAVE ME!"_

She didn't have the strength to Apparate, so instead she sprinted up the stairs and threw herself onto the bed in the guest room. She sobbed unrelentingly into a pillow, trying to force Cedric's face and the sensation of his kiss out of her mind.

But she failed.

Kiana drifted in and out during the next few hours, but she never completely fell asleep because of the terrible pain in her engorged breasts. Her mind automatically wandered to her newborn, and with a jolt that sent energy through her limbs, she realized it had been hours since she had seen her baby boy. But she hadn't heard his cries since arriving back in the house…

Stern voices from the sitting room distracted her momentarily from Darrin. She listened beside the closed bedroom door, and the words traveled to her without obstruction.

"Harry, be realistic for this once!" Hermione's voice ached with both desperation and anguish. "If what you say is true, then Cedric can't _possibly _be human! This has more to do with Voldemort's actions than anything; I'm sure of it!"

"But what would Voldemort gain by having Kiana fall for Cedric?" Ron's low voice disputed her. "This has to do with _Cedric_ and his own reasons for coming through the Veil…which I guess is the only way he could've reached us."

Silence. Kiana faintly heard deep sighs and rushed footsteps.

"Harry, will you please speak to me?" Grief rushed into Hermione's voice. "You're destroying me with your silence."

A moment passed before Harry's hoarse voice spoke. "There's nothing to say, Hermione. What's done is done. Dumbledore is searching for Cedric as we speak, but I know it'll do no good. He already inflicted all the damage he could."

Kiana couldn't listen anymore. She stepped boldly out of the bedroom and crept down the stairs. All eyes except Harry's fell upon her when she reached the sitting room. She avoided looking at Harry's defeated form on the couch so she'd be able to speak somewhat confidently. Ron and Hermione looked almost as devastated, but they didn't look upon her with scorn or hatred like she felt she deserved.

"Where is my son?" Kiana asked whoever would respond. "I need to feed him."

Ron cleared his throat and turned away, and Hermione's mouth tightened in an apologetic gesture.

Kiana's muscles tensed. "What have you done with him?"

Tears glistened in Hermione's brown eyes. "Kiana, he's staying with us for awhile. Some friends from the Ministry are watching him at our flat until we return. There weren't any other options, Kiana…"

A rush of emotions returned, destroying her careful composure. Her hands shook as she struggled to know what to do with her body – she wanted to explode out of her skin. "NO! Please, _please _don't take my baby from me! He's the only thing I have left now! I won't hurt him…Harry, tell them I won't hurt him!"

Harry winced like she had struck him and lowered his head in desolate helplessness.

"It's Dumbledore's orders, Kiana," Hermione said softly. "With everything so unstable...he believes it's better that Darrin is kept away from both you and Harry until we know for sure it's safe for him here."

Kiana had never wanted to die, but right then, with everyone she loved taken away from her, she didn't know why she continued to fight. Complete desolation settled upon her until only one thought remained in her head – _run._

Without warning, Harry's head snapped up, and he eyed her with fear. Ron and Hermione tensed and glanced from Harry to Kiana, not understanding the sudden change in atmosphere.

"Kiana…" Harry breathed, fear paralyzing his voice.

Kiana didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply. Without thinking about her actions, she bolted out the front door and coursed across the street and through the trees. She didn't know where she was headed; all that mattered was getting far enough away to lose her pursuers. She didn't take into consideration Harry's words about Dumbledore magically tracking her, or how slow she was on foot in comparison to Apparition. She only concentrated on the feel of her bare feet on the hard ground, the breath in and out of her lungs, and the pounding in her head.

She never thought she'd run into him.

Cedric stood alone in a small, open area in the woods farthest from the neighborhood. He smiled at her, and the longing she had felt before overtook her, paralyzing her thoughts and actions. All that mattered was getting to him and never leaving the security of his arms.

The moment she took a step in his direction, Harry, Ron and Hermione Apparated beside her, their wands raised. Kiana hardly noticed them as she released a strangled cry and bolted toward Cedric…but a well-cast spell sent her tumbling to the ground. She used all her strength to break free of the full body-bind, but in the end she could only glance up at Cedric with a desperate, pleading gaze.

Cedric ignored her silent messages and raised his eyebrows at the red-headed caster, for it had not been Harry who had cast the spell but Ron.

All the blood drained from Ron's face as he sent Harry a stark, horrified glance. "What the _hell _is wrong with you? Harry, don't you see? Cedric's been tormenting Kiana all along. He placed some sort of love spell on her that's messed with her head. _He's _the cause of your wife's pain, not Voldemort. And this bastard will be easy to deal with, for now it's us against him."

The agony on Harry's face sent shocks of distress through Ron and Hermione, for Harry clearly knew something they did not. His wand now lay lost and forgotten in his pocket, while his friends raised their own. Harry glanced from Cedric to Kiana and back again, his eyes acclaiming more misery the longer he studied them.

"Ah, I see Potter is not as daft as he looks," Cedric taunted, his own wand stowed as he wrapped his arms lazily across his chest. "He's finally discovered that this whole situation is far more complicated than a 'love spell,' as Weasley so eloquently put it. Care to share with your friends the reality, Potter, or should I?"

Harry did not respond, keeping his wide, fearful gaze locked on Kiana. To her, he did not exist. She gasped for breath as she clutched her chest, an invisible source crippling her as she silently pleaded with Cedric to release her. It was now obvious to even Ron and Hermione that she suffered, and her pain only grew worse the longer she was separated from Cedric.

"What, no well-chosen words of hate now, Potter?" Cedric spoke coldly. "A few hours ago you were ready to kill me, but now you stand frozen with a blank look. If you've truly discovered the truth, then you know that this is your last chance to fight me. By the day's end, the Death Eaters will have left the country entirely. In terms of your love-struck American wife, you know the choice you must make. Either keep her frozen at my feet and watch her die ever so slowly and painfully, or release her to me and live out the rest of your life knowing your precious love is reeking havoc with the Death Eaters and forever wrapped in the arms of another."

These words slowly sunk into Ron and Hermione's minds, and the deadliness of the situation brought tears to their eyes. Whatever Cedric had done to Kiana could not be undone, and the curse upon her had advanced to such a height that she was dying from the separation.

But they also knew that Harry would rather have his wife alive and healthy than send death's shadow upon her. Even if this meant allowing her to become entrapped in Voldemort's hold forever, at least he would not have to watch the light slowly leave her eyes.

Harry's decision was clear in both his grieved expression and his weak, helpless stance. Ron and Hermione knew he only barely managed to keep his sanity. Tears rushed down his pale cheeks as his body shook from suppressed grief, but somehow he managed to keep his voice steady as he turned to Ron.

"Release her."

"You've lost it, Harry." Fear flooded Ron's eyes. "Cedric must be cursed, too! He's playing games with us. Don't believe a word of this bullshit, he's…"

_"RELEASE HER!"_

Harry's cry, coupled with the spell he shot close to Ron's ear, signaled the end of it. Ron and Hermione fully realized that the rumor they had heard long ago was true - Harry and Kiana's souls were somehow connected. Harry knew the truth because he experienced Kiana's torture along with her, and he witnessed how much her mind screamed for Cedric. Had Kiana erased Harry completely from her thoughts? Had she forgotten of her love for him?

Forced to comply, Ron undid his spell with a shaking hand. They all watched with unspoken grief as Kiana, weak and shaking, used her remaining strength to run to Cedric. She instantly fell against his chest and wept. Cedric wrapped his arms around her and pressed her tight against him. Harry looked away, his chest rising and falling rapidly. Ron wished to run to his friend and support him, for Harry looked dangerously close to either losing his sanity and shooting death spells at Cedric, or fainting from the pain. But whatever occurred inside of him, Harry was determined to conceal everything.

"The Dark Lord thanks you for allowing him to use Kiana's talents once more. She will become a great tool in the future, all thanks to your feelings for her. I just hope you never see her again, for if you do, you won't recognize her. Not to mention that her first greeting will be a powerful killing curse sent your way." He Disapparated with Kiana to a destination unknown to all three of them.

"HARRY!"  
Hermione's scream shattered the silence after Cedric's departure, echoing through the woods like a cannon. She was the first to reach him, and she clutched his arm as Harry crumbled to his knees, his eyes never leaving the spot where Kiana had disappeared. He moaned and clutched his chest, his mouth slowly parting to speak her name longingly and despairingly: "_Kiana_."

As soon as the last syllable left his lips, Harry Potter went unconscious at the feet of his best friends.


	14. The Severance of Souls

Chapter Fourteen: The Severance of Souls

Whatever our souls are made up, his and mine are the same.

**- Emily Bronte**

"What is this, Snape? I thought she would arrive to us in one piece."

Kiana sank to her knees once her feet hit solid ground. She couldn't focus on anything around her; the world had dissolved into strange colors and dark shapes. She heard voices muttering all around, but she couldn't place any voice with a name. A fierce pain erupted in her chest, knocking all sense from her, and she couldn't focus on anything else.

"Kiana, stay with me, please!"

His voice brought some sense back to her world, and she peered up to observe Cedric's pale face. She studied him longer, watching as the mask he had worn for her husband and friends disappeared and transformed into stark fear.

She touched his cheek delicately, and he clung to her to keep her upright.

Voices screamed off the corners of her mind, and she winced, falling against Cedric's chest. For a moment, she made out the words spoken around her.

"Damn it; what _happened, _Snape? Answer me!"

"It's Potter, Bellatrix. Her parting from him started the separation of their souls, and it's causing both of them misery. We have to act quickly before Dumbledore finds some way to keep their connection intact. Get out of the way, Diggory! She's no longer your concern…"

Cedric breathed heavily beside her. "I won't let you hurt her."

Bellatrix's cruel laugh erupted across the wide expanse of the field. "It's a little too late for that now, Diggory! Should've kept that spell upon him longer, Snape…perhaps then he wouldn't care what happens to her now."

The fiery blasts of spells blazed in the corner of Kiana's gaze, but Snape's harsh voice halted it all. "_Enough! _There's no time for your immature rows now! We have to try and finish this before her separation from Potter kills her."

With another blast from a wand, Cedric was thrown from her side. Kiana screamed out in protest, but Snape was beside her. She helplessly fell under his control, and she knew her life was over when he forced her to look into his eyes. She knew what he was about to do and everything in her mind and soul screamed at her to fight. But her body was incapacitated and it failed her moment by moment.

_Snape wouldn't do it, _she thought hastily. _He's working for Dumbledore; he has a duty to protect me! No, he wouldn't willingly destroy me…_

Kiana forced her mouth to move. "Snape, please…"

He ignored her and pulled her head back, forcing her to keep eye contact with him as he pulled out his wand and dug deep inside her soul for what he needed.

_"Give it to me, Karn; show me where it is!" _His voice echoed from deep within her, indicating that he had already entered the most secret part of her heart.

_"No, no. I won't. I can't…Harry, where are you? Why can't I feel your presence anymore?"_

A blast from Snape's wand struck her chest with an astonishing force, and Kiana shrieked with pain. Snape was so close to his goal that the agony within her body doubled, making her forget where she was and what she was trying to do. All that mattered was giving Snape what he wanted so that the pain would cease.

"Diggory!" Snape's sharp, commanding tone came to her from far away. She couldn't even see his face anymore. Her world was shrouded in ghostly black. "Do it _now_, worthless git! It's almost done with!"

From out of nowhere came the soft lips of Cedric Diggory, and his tender kisses and loving caresses destroyed the remainder of Kiana's strength and willpower. It was impossible to resist Cedric when he was all she was living for.

And with her complete submission came a pain far greater than previous, for she felt something detach and leave her body forever.

Cedric, too, was leaving her, and she tried to cry out at him to stay, but she had no control over her body. She fell to the ground like a worn rag doll, unable to reach out a hand to protect herself from the hard earth.

The last thing she heard was the unemotional voice of Snape speaking to another close by.

"She is yours, my lord."

Harry entered that same place of distant voices and dark shapes, but he had more strength to fight against his weakness. He partly regained consciousness a few minutes after passing out in the woods, and he found himself on his back inside a dim room. Voices pounded inside his head, and he didn't know how many came from beside him.

He struggled to concentrate as fragments of stern conversation reached him.

"…to keep him alive; it's our only choice."

"You'll destroy him! He won't…"

"…already leaving him. She can't fight against them."

"Please! I can't bear to see him like this!"

Harry thought he heard Hermione and Ron's voices within the web of sounds, but the pain within him grew with each passing moment. Everything inside him screamed for Kiana, and several times he thought his body was dying from cardiac arrest. Tears rushed down his cheeks as the darkness tried to pull him in deeper, but somehow he knew he had to fight. If he let go and drifted away, he would never see Kiana again. Their souls would forever be torn and separated, and death would probably come not long after that.

The sting of a needle pierced through his skin and he cried out, desperately trying to pull away. But someone immobilized him, making it all the harder for him to fight against complete unconsciousness. Something hot and thick rushed through his body, and the heat distracted him from the pain inside his chest.

Within seconds, his bodily pain slowly receded, and panic entered his mind. He fought hard against whatever they had pushed into his system, for he knew the pain was the last thing keeping him and Kiana connected. Pain meant she had not yet given in and their connection was not lost.

"NO!" he screamed as the darkness suffocated him and took the last fragments of pain away. "No, please! Kiana! Kiana, don't leave me…don't leave me like this…"

Harry didn't know if he had screamed the words aloud or only inside his head, for he had lost all sensation in his body. Weakened by both Kiana's separation and his fight to stay awake, Harry soon had no choice but to stop screaming and drift away into the darkness.

One final tear slid down his cheek when he realized Kiana was gone.

Harry awoke with most of the pain gone, and this realization shocked him the most. His eyes shot open and he jumped to his feet, ignoring the ache in his limbs. He scanned the room to discover he was in Dumbledore's office at Hogwarts, probably one of the last safe places left to him. Who knew where Voldemort and his Death Eaters were now.

Dumbledore drifted into the room near the doorway, and he glanced at Harry despairingly. He spoke before Harry could form a thought.

"How are you, Harry? Do you need something for the pain?"

Harry's eyes widened in madness, and he grabbed his wand from the nearest table. He raised it at the Headmaster with a shaking arm. "How _dare _you speak to me so casually? _Where is she?_"

A mix of painful emotions formed on his face. "She is beyond your help, Harry. She has given in to Snape's torture, and your connection has been damaged without hope of repair. I doubt she remembers you at all now."

This terrible truth lingered in the room for some time, prolonging Harry's internal agony as he fought to control himself. He experienced an alarming sense of déjà vu as he recalled how he had trashed Dumbledore's office in a fit of rage after Sirius' death. He longed to do the same thing now, just to give his body something to do. But he restrained his anger the best he could and slowly lowered his wand.

"I don't believe you," Harry hissed, teeth gritted. "I don't believe she's truly gone; I would be in the grave if she was. I wouldn't allow myself to survive if she had willingly left me forever."

"It doesn't matter how damaged your connection is, Harry," Dumbledore said with sternness. "What matters is that she now belongs to Voldemort. If you try and seek her out, you will die. You would die before even laying an eye on her. I'm forcing you to remain here because I care about you too much to let you act impulsively. There are too many Death Eaters to protect her, not to mention Voldemort himself."

"You care about me, but you care _nothing_ about her!" Harry cried, throwing his arms out to the side. His left hand smashed against a crystal ball, sending it flying across the room before it collided with the wall. "You give up the moment she is taken away while not considering the pain she's in! I know she's suffering, Dumbledore, and I will not rest until I find her and fight for her."

Dumbledore shook his head tensely. "Harry, you're on a suicide mission. You wouldn't find her even if you tried; she became untraceable the moment Cedric took her to Voldemort, and your connection is no longer reliable to do the same. You have to accept her as dead, Harry. There is no other choice."

"NO! YOU ASK THE IMPOSSIBLE!" A fly-away spell flashed from his wand and smashed the flower vase by the window. Shards of glass flew through the air, but Harry didn't try to dodge the pieces. One flew by his neck and carved a long, narrow gash in his skin, and it proved how strong Harry's internal pain was when he hardly felt the physical cut.

Dumbledore remained persistent, although his grief remained visible on his face. Harry knew the old headmaster would've shed tears if he had been human. "Voldemort _wishes _you to come, Harry. He knows you are weak and will easily finish you off. Do you really want to die so needlessly? You forget that Kiana would be forced to watch as you died…do you want her conscious of that for the rest of eternity?"

Before Harry could respond, Hermione and Ron entered the room. They both appeared to be under the dark shadow of grief, as if attending Kiana's funeral. Both their faces were streaked with tears, and they clutched hands like they only had each other to hold onto. Harry looked away when Hermione glanced up at him despairingly.

"Harry, _please _listen to Dumbledore. I know it sounds foolish, but you _know _you stand no chance against Voldemort! And…Harry, you're bleeding!"

Harry absentmindedly touched his neck and felt the hot, thick substance on his fingertips. Unwillingly, doing it only for his friends, he clotted the gash with his wand and wiped away all traces of blood.

"Harry, I don't want to lose you, too," Ron's rough voice spoke. "If Kiana…if Kiana had any say in it, she'd want you to listen to Dumbledore. You have a newborn son, Harry! Don't force Darrin to lose both his parents in the same day. You're needed _here_, mate."

Thoughts of Darrin threatened to weaken him, but Harry straightened and looked them all determinedly in the eye. He paused a moment before speaking with aggressive intensity. "I'm going to search for her. If you do anything to stop me – _anything _to impair my free will – I can no longer call you my friends."

Knowing he couldn't Disapparate on Hogwarts grounds, he rushed past his stricken friends and out the door. He breathed out in relief when no footsteps thundered behind him.

"It is destroyed, then?"  
Voldemort circled Kiana as the new Death Eater stared ahead with determination. She kept her eyes focused on a tree far off in the woods, trying to ignore the stares of every evil creature in her presence. It wasn't hard to pretend she felt nothing in their company – her body and mind had become mostly empty and cold after Snape had destroyed part of her soul. The pain was gone, the intense longing for Cedric had vanished…and Harry Potter was a name she loathed to hear.

"No, my lord; it is only suppressed," Snape announced from Kiana's right. "The Concorition connection runs so deep within them that it cannot be completely broken, but I believe she will forget it ever existed. I broke the magic apart well enough."

Kiana's jaw clenched, hating how they spoke as if she wasn't in attendance.

Snape paused before he addressed the Dark Lord again. "My lord, do you have plans soon to create the Almater Potion? We shouldn't wait long before turning the girl into one of us. What if Potter…"

"He will come for her, I'm sure, but he won't get far." Voldemort studied her with gloating pleasure. "Kiana won't allow him to weaken her; will you, girl?"

Kiana's lips tightened. "He will die the moment I know he's near. I feel nothing for him except hate."

Voldemort turned to Bellatrix with a smile. "She reminds me of you, Bella. The world may now consider her to be your devoted offspring."

Bellatrix hissed through her teeth. "She's too weak to be any daughter of mine."

Kiana stiffened and raised her wand, but Snape instantly reprimanded her and forced her arm down. "Keep your emotions in check, Karn," he hissed. "You still have much to learn."

"I see your little _experience _yesterday stirred up a lot of sensations," Voldemort addressed her. "You're still weak, this I know too well, but the breaking of your connection created a lot of hatred within you. You should use this to your advantage."

Kiana's heart raced in anticipation. "What do you wish of me, my lord?"

"A little test to see how much of your past self still lingers deep within." Voldemort's grin widened, sending a chill through Kiana's soul. "If you've truly become one of us, this shouldn't be difficult for you. I want you to go to Hogwarts, girl, and set fire to as many areas as you can. You'll be able to enter the grounds because you're not yet seen as an enemy. If you come across any one of your old friends, kill them instantly. If Potter arrives at your side, kill him as slowly and painfully as you can. I want him to know who you really are."

No thoughts except pure submission entered her mind. "This will be done, my lord."

Harry didn't know he only had to enter the Great Hall to find her. A small fragment of their connection still existed, and a tiny tug on his mind told him that she was close. He stopped by one of the House tables and pulled out his wand. He forced his mind to concentrate while he suppressed the desire to run to her and take her into his arms.

A blast of flame startled him, and he jumped out of the fire's path as it devoured the wood of the Slytherin table. He spun around in time to see a flash of long, black hair dart away from the Great Hall entrance.

Sneering, he clutched his wand and flew after Bellatrix. A loud, high cackle echoed off the stone walls, but Harry couldn't quite catch up to the Death Eater. He lost sight of her and ended up running in circles, finally arriving back at the Great Hall's entrance. He glanced inside to find most of the Hall surrounded in high flames.

Eyes widening, he raced inside and yelled spells at the flames. Water flew from his wand and quenched sections of the fire, but someone on the other side created new flames for each section he smothered. Knowing he had to take care of the Death Eater first, he ran to where its tall form stood on top of the last remaining House table. Her back was to him as she screamed spells at every free area in the Great Hall.

Harry raised his wand to the witch's back. "Bellatrix!"

The Death Eater spun and directed her wand at him, and Harry's tense, furious face dissolved into complete shock. Acute pain hit his chest as he peered into the deadly face of his Kiana.

Harry lost all sense as he held gazes with his wife, but Kiana's sneer widened. She did not seem to recognize him as she leveled her wand in the direction of his heart. "Potter!" she cried with vicious hatred. "What the hell is this, you following me around like a love struck teenager? Are you _trying _to get murdered, or are you too idiotic to realize I'm not afraid to kill you?"

The flames roared on either side of them, the heat reaching closer and closer to both their faces as the fire consumed the House tables, one by one. He kept his distance from her, his wand held high as he struggled to come up with a plan. But the horror in front of him consumed his mind – Kiana's body had been transformed back to her natural form, but with terrifying alterations. Her hair now reached long down her back and shone a rich black, and her eyes – normally a rich brown – were as black as stones. In addition to her long, flowing black cloak and thick English accent, Harry could well be about to duel Bellatrix instead of his American wife.

And deep within, he knew that was just what Voldemort had been trying to achieve.

"Leave now, Potter, and save yourself before you suffer at either my hand or the unsympathetic heat of the flames. When will you get it through that thick head of yours that I belong to no one but the Dark Lord?"

Harry swallowed hard and slowly lowered his wand. "Listen to what you're saying before you rattle off words that we both know are rubbish!" He had to shout now to be heard above the roar of the fire. His eyes darted from Kiana's hard, unyielding expression to the walls of fire reaching for them. His skin was already starting to protest as the heat seared his vulnerable flesh. "You know who I am, Kiana! Just _look _at me and you'll realize our connection is not lost. Snape could not destroy it all."

Kiana clenched her teeth and hissed through them. "Again with this bloody connection! I _am _looking at you, Potter, and all I see is a naïve and immature child who still believes he's the Chosen One and is always right. I'm giving you one last chance, boy - leave now and forget I ever existed or prepare yourself for a long and torturous death!"

Harry drew in a shaky breath as his eyes burned from both the suffocating smoke and his forming tears.

"Forget you ever existed?" His voice turned weak and helpless. "_Now _who is the naïve one? We both know that I could not and will not ever leave you. I won't break the vow I swore to you on our wedding day – for better or for worse. That's why I'm still here, and I won't leave you until death takes me. I won't watch you die under Voldemort's hold, for you know how tight a grip he has over your head and heart."

The roar of the fire was so deafening that Kiana could never have heard him if he hadn't used what still remained of their connection to speak to her telepathically. And he knew she had heard every word from the way her eyes widened with panic and her wand arm began to shake.

They held gazes for a few more seconds until an echoing snap exploded in the room and the last House table broke under Kiana's feet. Harry's heart lurched painfully as Kiana fell into the flames, and he raced to her without concern for his own safety. But her reflexes were quicker than his, and, seemingly uninjured, within seconds she was on the other side of the Hall. She didn't turn back as she fled.

Harry struggled to copy her, but she had closed his path with another chain of flame. Trapped, he spun around to scour the area for a break in the fire, but he found none. Panic threatened to cloud his mind and keep him immobile, but he shook himself and thought hard. On impulse, he shot a blast of water from his wand at a small branch of fire, and this damaged the flames enough for him to jump over and exit the Hall.

"Kiana! _Kiana!_" He shouted her name over and over, but after chasing the shadow of her dark cloak for a minute, he knew she was close to the safety of an Apparition point. By the time he found her, she would've Disapparated to wherever her master remained.

He found that he didn't have the will to cast any spell at her, and with newfound pain, Harry watched her Disapparate in the night. He instantly fell to the dirt outside Hogwarts' main gates and screamed out his torture until his voice broke from the strain.


	15. Confessions and Revelations

Chapter Fifteen: Confessions and Revelations

From now on you will never be alone; even when we are separated, and even when death itself parts us, I shall remain with you.

**- Ladislaus Boros**

Hermione and Ron found him sooner than he'd expected. After explaining that Dumbledore had successfully kept the fire from spreading within the Great Hall, they sat on either side of him and supported him silently with their presence. Hermione took his hand and squeezed it before she rested her head on his shoulder. She let him know that they shared his grief and distress.

_Not quite, _Harry thought darkly as he stared ahead at the dark forest surrounding Hogwarts Castle. _They can never possibly understand what it's like to have part of your soul ripped away, or to live with the knowledge that your wife has forgotten of her love for you. Everything good inside me vanished when she became possessed by Voldemort._

His expression must have frightened her because she suddenly raised her head and inhaled deeply. "Harry, you mustn't blame Kiana for this. She's not _willingly _choosing Cedric over you or deserting you out of hatred. She's being cursed from all directions, Harry! Even Bellatrix must be…"

"I'm not _blaming _her, Hermione!" Harry cried out forcefully, turning his glare upon her. "Where did you come up with such a bloody terrible idea?"  
Hermione's gaze darted for a split second over to Ron – who quickly lowered his head – before she faced Harry again. Her hands dug into his arm, but Harry didn't notice the pain.

"We just thought that…that you didn't completely understand what's happened to her. It's far easier, at least for me, to believe that Kiana fell for Cedric and his mysterious ways instead of accepting the…the truth. We spoke to Dumbledore…" She looked down and moaned softly. Harry tensed in unconscious preparation for her words. "And Dumbledore told us that Voldemort wants her entire soul to die so that he can easily turn her into an undead, powerful being like himself. If it dies, she'll submit to him and allow herself to become completely possessed. And…" She shook her head with agony, tears trickling down her cheeks.

Ron mustered the courage to finish his girlfriend's words. "And the only way to completely destroy her soul is to destroy her magical connection with you, Harry." His voice was hoarse, but Harry understood each of his words. "If she is forced to believe that you don't love her and she can never return to you, she'll have no hope to continue fighting. So you can't blame yourself, mate. She loves only _you_, but Voldemort wants you to believe the opposite so that you don't hunt her down and fight for her."

Harry continued to stare unblinkingly at the trees in front of them. He was beyond tears now; his grief was too great to be released through his eyes. His unbearable emotions remained inside him, slowly ripping him apart. He promised himself that he wouldn't let himself die from the pain until he had at least one chance to fight for her in front of Voldemort.

"I'm aware of everything you told me," he replied softly. "I've known it all along, but that doesn't make the reality any easier. You should have seen the look of…of detestation on her face when I caught up to her in the Great Hall. There was so much hate and rage in her that it's impossible for that all to be her…all Kiana. My Kiana doesn't have the capability to glare at someone so inhumanly. It was at that moment when I realized Voldemort had succeeded in turning my wife into a near exact clone of Bellatrix. Nothing about her reminded me of the American girl I first met at Hogwarts."

Hermione squeezed his hand again in compassion, but neither she nor Ron tried to meet his gaze. They were all lost in their own misery.

"But that moment also reminded me of how hard I have to fight for her," Harry continued with added strength to his voice. "If Voldemort believes that I've given up after seeing her like that, he doesn't know me at all. I've thought over my options again and again, and I know that it'd be impossible for me to continue living without her. Kiana is my whole life, and if I don't have her, I have nothing. Therefore, if I must die in my possibly fruitless efforts to save her…then so be it. I'll die knowing I tried my hardest to get her back, and somewhere in her tortured mind, Kiana will always remember that."

"Harry." Hermione desperately placed a hand upon his cheek, turning his gaze slowly toward hers. "Harry, it doesn't have to end this way! If you just…"

"Hermione, listen to me." Harry took her hand and held it against his chest. "You don't completely understand this connection between Kiana and me. It's grown so strong over the years that, even if I don't sacrifice myself in front of Voldemort, I will die instantly when Kiana becomes one of them and our connection is destroyed. And with that reality in mind, I'd rather die fighting for her than far away trying to save myself."

Hermione's mouth opened like she was about to protest, but she closed it. Ron didn't try to speak.

Harry almost smiled at the resignation on his friends' faces. "Not even trying to argue with me shows how well you both know me. I'm sorry it has to come to this, but I…"

"You don't have to defend yourself, Harry," Ron interrupted. "We know how foolish it would be for us to try and stop you. We knew that this would inevitably happen if Kiana…continued to suffer under Voldemort. Of course, we'd say anything to sway you or to make you agree for us to join you, but…"

"You were right to not speak that rubbish," Harry cut in, turning his head slightly to cast him a disappointed glare. "Especially the bit about you coming with me. There's no way on earth I'd allow you to fight with me when the odds of success are so low. No, I want to see you and Hermione get married and have kids and watch them grow up. There's nothing to gain from having Voldemort kill all three of us."

"What about Darrin?" Hermione's voice trembled. "You'll just leave him parentless?"

"You're both his godparents," Harry replied softly after a moment. "You know he would go to you regardless of how I died. I don't want to see him now; that would only make it harder to leave him. I know he'll be taken care of well, and I know you'll mention to him every day how much his parents love him."

Hermione finally broke down after holding it in for so long. Harry ironically found himself comforting her as all three of their minds were consumed with the thought of Harry's inevitable death.

"You let him _go _after strict orders to kill him? Has _nothing _changed about you, Karn?"

Bellatrix slapped Kiana forcefully across the cheek, but Kiana hardly flinched. She had been expecting this kind of reaction.

"She's still incapable of killing Potter!" Bellatrix accused, pointing a long finger at Kiana as Snape watched with apparent boredom.

"Are you really that surprised?" Snape drawled. "You know that her and Potter's connection still lingers in her soul, so she cannot kill him without being forced to. It is better this way, however."

Bellatrix raised her thin black eyebrows. "Oh really? And why is that?"

Snape raised his eyes to the night sky as if he found her questions bothersome. "Now Potter will suffer longer until his death. He will either die from the damage to his soul, or he'll come here for us to do the honors for him. Either way he is doomed, and Kiana will soon be the Dark Lord's. I hear our lord is preparing the Almater Potion as we speak using part of the Concorition I was able to retrieve two days ago."

Kiana kept her face impassive, but her heart skipped irregularly. She tried not to think about Harry's death or her coming transformation to an undead spirit, but it became harder the more her mind lingered on Harry's pained face in the Great Hall. The words he had spoken to her about loyalty and love had originally seemed juvenile, but they had struck her heart nonetheless. She tried to remember what it had been like married to him, but she couldn't recall anything except their fights over Cedric.

Cedric…where was he?

Kiana kept her head still as Bellatrix argued with Snape, but her eyes darted back and forth across the forest floor. She sighed when she didn't notice him lingering nearby. She had to talk to him soon; there was much she needed to hear and understand.

The Death Eaters had temporarily situated themselves in a wide forest in the south of England. Except for Kiana – the only human in the cult – there was no need for a roof over their heads or access to food and water.

As if her thoughts had triggered her physical symptoms, Kiana's head spun with exhaustion, and Snape eyed her carefully.

"Let the girl go, Bella," he said, voice slightly raised. "You forget how human she is; she needs to sleep if she's to be of any use to us."

Bellatrix groaned dramatically and glared at Kiana. "Your pathetic human state saved you this time, Karn. But once you are transformed, I will let your punishments linger all night long. May that day come soon."

Without glancing at either Death Eater, Kiana headed deep into the woods to the small make-shift bed she had created for herself out of several blankets and pillows. (Just for the witch's personal amusement, Bellatrix had forbidden Kiana to magick a regular bed into the woods, even though no Muggle would notice its presence). Kiana settled down on the hard earth, but the cold environment and the terrible memories rushing through her mind kept her eyes from closing.

Harry's soft voice rushed into her thoughts with eerie clarity: _"Forget you ever existed? Now who is the naïve one? I won't watch you die under Voldemort's hold, for you know how tight a grip he has over your head and heart."_

The scene changed, and the severe, terrified faces of Harry, Ron and Hermione flashed in front of her, and Kiana closed her eyes as pain hit her chest. She didn't know why she envisioned their faces so clearly – she hadn't been looking at them at the time. Her eyes had been focused on Cedric.

"_By the day's end, the Death Eaters will have left the country entirely. In terms of your love-struck American wife, you know the choice you must make. Either keep her frozen at my feet and watch her die ever so slowly and painfully, or release her to me and live out the rest of your life knowing your precious love is reeking havoc with the Death Eaters and forever wrapped in the arms of another." _

There had been such coldness in Cedric's voice as he spoke to Harry and her friends. It was the first time he had appeared so frightening to her; that wasn't the Cedric she knew and loved.

_"Release her."_

_ "You've lost it, Harry. Cedric must be cursed, too! He's playing games with us. Don't believe a word of this bullshit, he's…"_

_ "RELEASE HER!"_

It was too much. Even with the blankets tucked around her, coldness seeped into her skin, and Kiana fell asleep with the screams and cries of Harry in her head and the image of Cedric's unemotional, satisfied face.

"Kiana. Kiana!"

She groggily glanced up to find someone leaning down over her. Frantic, Kiana bolted upright and clumsily rose to her feet. She wasn't about to be punished for sleeping in, no matter how late in the day it may be.

"Kiana, calm down! It's just me."

Firm hands fell upon her shoulders and gently urged her back down to the ground. Kiana focused on the face before her and realized it was Cedric who had approached her in her sleep. Breathing out slowly to calm herself, she sat back against a tree and closed her eyes.

"Please don't do that to me again. I thought you were Bellatrix."

Cedric sighed with irritation. "If she wasn't incapable of dying, I would kill that witch," he muttered. "She's the worst on you, and I've never discovered why."

Kiana opened her eyes and pursed her lips in thought. "She doesn't need a reason to detest someone, but I feel like she's resented another female entering the Death Eater circle. I also believe she's racist against Americans." Her heart jumped at the thought, and a small voice spoke the terrible question in her mind: _was _she still an American? She certainly didn't speak like one anymore. Had Voldemort erased everything about her when he had claimed her as his own?

Kiana's desolate thoughts must have shown on her face, for Cedric suddenly looked apologetic, and he took her hand carefully. "I hate what he did to you, Kiana. If I could've stopped it…you must believe I would have done everything in my power to save you. The only thing he kept the same is your face. If you look past your new eyes, hair and voice, you can still see it's you." He brought a finger to her cheek and traced the outline of her jaw slowly and tenderly. Kiana's skin prickled and she relished his touch. Apparently her longing for him hadn't completely disappeared.

The facts, however, didn't add up, and questions poured into Kiana's mind after Cedric pulled his hand away. "You didn't know me before Dumbledore changed me; when I still sounded American. How do you know what my face shape was?"

Cedric swallowed hard and looked down. He kicked a stone with his foot and took a moment before replying. "It's about time I told you the whole story, Kiana. I wished this day would never come; I wished I never had to tell you about how I lied to you and cursed you to love me. You'll never believe me when I say how I hated every moment of our time together because it was never real. You weren't really acting like yourself because you couldn't stop thinking about me, and I couldn't say anything truthful because I had a task to do. Worse, I knew far more about you than you'd ever imagine, and I had to keep it all a secret."

He groaned softly and closed his eyes. Filled with compassion, Kiana placed a hand on his knee. "I won't judge you, Cedric. It seems like it wasn't just me who acted under a spell."

Cedric peered up into her eyes solemnly. She caught deep sorrow underneath his low tone. "I had no choices when Voldemort tore me from the afterlife and turned me into one of his undead servants. He had the power to bring me back to earth because his wand had killed me, so its power could bring me back once Voldemort had returned. I had barely reoriented myself before I was forced to search you and Harry out and discover your plans. It wasn't hard to find you because of Harry's popularity at the Ministry, and then I didn't let you out of my sight for days."

He groaned again and shook his head from side to side, as if trying to thrust the memories away. "Once I had enough information, I returned to Voldemort. It wasn't long before I had my assignment: I had to place a powerful love spell upon you and let it slowly strengthen until it hurt for you to be away from me. Then I had to somehow let Harry find out and make it all the more painful for him. Voldemort figured that Harry wouldn't be as willing to fight for you if he was furious at our apparent love for each other. But as you well know, Harry's love for you is too strong to be destroyed by a single act of adultery."

Kiana grimaced. She hated talking about Harry. She didn't want to think or speak about him ever again. She didn't know how she felt about him, but she told herself that trying to decode her emotions would do her no good when her situation was irreversible.

She desperately changed the subject. "So when I was brought here and tortured, that destroyed the love curse? You…you don't have any feelings for me now?" Her voice broke, betraying her underlying emotions. She turned away in embarrassment.

Cedric turned her face toward his, and she peered into his deep eyes. She wondered if there'd be tears there if he could produce them. "Kiana, if you believe anything in this speech of mine, I hope it's this: I still love you. It's not the romantic love you felt for me a few days ago, but it's a deep, compassionate love that still binds me to you. I can't bear to watch you suffer, Kiana, and when Snape tortured you and altered your mind and memories once more…" He halted, breathing deeply. "Please believe me, Kiana. I am not like the Death Eaters; I am still capable of love."

Tears fell from her eyes, and Kiana hastily wiped them away. "It doesn't matter if I believe you or not," she murmured, avoiding his gaze. "You can't help me. The longer I am under Voldemort's hold and the longer Snape and Bellatrix enter my mind, the more of myself I lose. I'm already starting to think like a Death Eater, and I'm terrified each time I find myself thinking of murder. That's why I have to forget everything in my past or the memories will torture me forever."

Kiana tried to turn away, but Cedric overpowered her and wrapped his arms around her. She fell against his chest and immediately wept, letting the rest of her human tears fall down her dirt-strewn cheeks. She wept until she fell back asleep, and she prayed that Cedric wouldn't leave her even after unconsciousness enveloped her.

Kiana later discovered she had received her wish – Cedric still lay beside her when she awoke hours later. She smiled as she snuggled closer against his chest, but her delight vanished when she noticed the hard frown on his face.

"Cedric, what's wrong? Is it Voldemort? Is he…"

"No." Coldness returned to his voice, making Kiana tense. "You were screaming in your sleep, Kiana. You were screaming about someone named Darrin."

Kiana held her breath in terror. Her eyes widened as she searched his face for any sign of comprehension.

Cedric's mouth tightened into a thin line, and Kiana's worst fears were confirmed. "I know about your son, Kiana. I've known about him since his birth. I had to, love; it was my job."

Her breaths came rushed and uneven until she felt lightheaded. It took her a minute until she could blurt out the words. "You…you didn't tell anyone, did you? You didn't have to reveal that kind of information. It wasn't relevant to your task!" Her voice rose at the end until she almost screamed in panic.

Cedric placed a hand over her mouth and peered around them anxiously. "Hush, Kiana! I was careful to keep that information silent, and I managed not to think about it in case Snape tried to read my mind. If any Death Eater has discovered your secret, they haven't yet told Voldemort."

"How do you know?" she whispered.

He glanced down at her with sympathy. "You know the answer to that. Voldemort would've ordered all of us to search for him and kill him the instant he heard the news. Luckily, Voldemort doesn't suspect that you possess any secrets right now."

"Oh, Cedric," she wept. "We won't be able to keep this secret for long. My fear is going to alert Snape, and he'll…"

"Stop," Cedric ordered. "You can't think that way. Remember what you told me last night, Kiana: you must forget everything in your past or you'll be tortured forever. If you love your son, you must forget about him."

Shaking, Kiana buried her face into his chest and tried to obey, but her fear forced the memories of her son to the forefront of her mind. She tried to remember what he looked like, but her memories had become vague and unclear the moment Snape had tried to destroy her connection with Harry.

"Why, what a cute couple you both make."

They twisted around to lock eyes with Bellatrix. The witch glared down at them with a small sneer, and she waved her wand threateningly at Kiana. "You received a far longer rest than I would've given you, Karn. I don't know how you forced Diggory to your side; he's no longer obligated to care about you."

Cedric had more courage in that moment than Kiana. "What do you want, Bellatrix?"

Bella clicked her tongue disapprovingly. "Don't give me that tone, Diggory. You forget your place easily." She paused and studied the pair suspiciously. Kiana tried to keep her face impassive. "The Dark Lord wishes to speak with you, Karn. He asked me to seek you out because he doesn't have time to play Hide and Seek with a weak human."

Cedric frowned. "I thought he could find her whenever he wished to now. She's no longer protected."

Bella rolled her eyes. "How daft you can be. Some kind of magic is still keeping the girl protected from the binding magic of the Dark Mark. Luckily, that will be easily destroyed once she is transformed into one of us."

Something must have flashed on Kiana's face, for Bella's glare deepened. "Don't even think about it, girl! Snape made sure to place a powerful tracking spell upon you when he fooled with your mind. You only bring more pain upon yourself if you attempt escape. Now quick, Karn! The Dark Lord does not wait with patience."

Kiana cast one fearful glance at Cedric before she unwillingly pulled herself off his chest and stood. Cedric made to follow her, but Bellatrix drew her wand. "Just her, boy. She doesn't need your protection."

Kiana didn't dare look back as she followed Bellatrix into the large clearing where Snape and Voldemort waited. Knowing from experience to keep eye contact with a Death Eater, she kept her gaze locked on Snape. She couldn't face Voldemort's eager expression right then.

"There has been an interesting development, Kiana." The silky way Voldemort pronounced her first name sent a shiver up her spine. "You'll be glad to learn that the potion to transform you into one of us is almost complete. You won't have to remain a pitiful human for long."

Kiana's mind wandered to the mysterious second part of Voldemort's speech. What would he ask her to do now? Kill an innocent Muggle this time? Destroy someone's home? Or perhaps he had learned something that interested him…

Moments after the images flashed through her mind, Snape's mouth tightened and his eyes slowly widened with shock. Kiana's heart jumped in her chest and she darted her gaze away, praying he hadn't seen those last few images. No, he couldn't have! How _could _she have been looking into his eyes that whole time? What had happened to her common sense?

A moment of silence passed as Voldemort noticed Kiana's strangely fearful face. Bella, however, wasn't looking at her but now studied Snape. Bellatrix let out a loud cackle, and Kiana held her breath in horrific trepidation.

"Tell us, Snape!" Bella laughed. "Tell us what you saw in her head. I'm sure it'll be good considering the way your face froze so suddenly."

Kiana lost all rational thought and turned desperately to Snape. She opened her mouth to scream a warning at him, but Bellatrix foresaw her actions. The witch struck her hard in the stomach with a spell, and Kiana crumbled to the ground in pain. She couldn't catch her breath as her chest seared with invisible fire, making her incapable of speech. She glanced again at Snape, hoping he would have pity on her for once, but she knew it was all over when Voldemort eagerly turned his attention to the silent Death Eater.

"Yes, tell us, Severus." Voldemort circled him like a serpent. "What _is _so interesting about the girl's thoughts? Apparently it's something you weren't aware of, for I haven't seen you so surprised in years. You don't normally show your emotions like this. Remember that I will know if you lie."

Tears slipped from Kiana's eyes, but they weren't the effects of her physical pain. She knew that Snape's reply would become her son's death sentence, and she was utterly incapable of saving her child in any way.

Snape paused before he spoke in a low, detached voice. "Her thoughts wandered to an infant, my lord. A boy."

Voldemort tapped his wand slowly against his palm. Hypnotized in her terror, Kiana watched his movements carefully. "I see. Do you know this boy, Severus?"

Kiana kept sending Snape desperate, silent messages, but he ignored her and focused on the trees behind her. "No, my lord…but he strangely resembles Potter."

Kiana moaned in protest, but the constant physical pain kept her from doing anything else. Voldemort finally turned to her, and comprehension fell upon him as he observed Kiana's frantic state.

"A son," Voldemort whispered, almost to himself. "Of course. Dumbledore's been keeping him safe, as well. Why didn't I discover him sooner?"

Voldemort prolonged Kiana's agony with his silence. He paced the ground with careful, thoughtful steps, and Kiana almost screamed at him, but her small amount of self-restraint held her back.

After at least a full minute, Voldemort turned and faced his audience. He eyed Bellatrix first. "That's enough, Bella."

With a sneer, Bella undid her spell upon Kiana. Kiana didn't relax much after the pain vanished from her chest. Her head spun as the Dark Lord approached her with dangerous intensity. His eyes flashed red as he leaned down to her level on the ground.

"You have done your son a great disservice by keeping his life a secret from me," the snake hissed. "Now I have no choice but to destroy him because of your silence."

Kiana tightened her jaw. She highly doubted Voldemort would have kept Darrin alive if she _had _proclaimed his existence the moment she was taken. She glared up at Voldemort with as much hatred as she could manage. "You'll never find him!" she cried. "Harry and Dumbledore will have him as protected as possible. He's probably not even in the UK anymore."

Voldemort laughed darkly and reached out to touch her cheek. Kiana bristled and leaned away. "You're delusional, girl. Once I allow Snape to penetrate every last memory in your mind, I'll have enough information to lead a search for the child. We will fight until Potter is forced to give the child up. And even if he doesn't, you can be sure that we will not rest until your son is dead. If you've forgotten, we _don't _rest anyway."

Kiana began to sob halfway through Voldemort's speech, which only pleased the Dark Lord more. As he rose to leave, Kiana reached out a hand despairingly and screamed with all she had. "Voldemort! What is he to you? He's a newborn; he's incapable of doing _anything! _Please…please spare him. Torture me all you wish, or erase everything in my memory and make me forget who I am. Just please don't hurt him!"

Amazingly, Voldemort halted and turned toward Snape with unreadable eyes. Snape gazed back with equal lifelessness, and Kiana held her breath.

"I guess it does us no harm to wait a few more days," Voldemort said at last. "By then, the girl _will _have forgotten who she was and she won't care what our next actions are." He turned and faced Kiana again. "But be forewarned, girl. If you try and send a message to Potter or Dumbledore, you will instantly forget your son was ever born."

He disappeared after these words, leaving Kiana in horrified silence. She knew the Dark Lord had lied to her (when had he _ever _wished to wait for a murder?) But she also knew that when he did decide to act, she wouldn't be able to track his movements and try to stop him.

"Don't be a fool, Kiana," Snape spoke warningly. He must have guessed where her thoughts led. "Trying to stop the Dark Lord is like planning your suicide. The only thing you can do is hope that the child is protected by a large army."

And when Snape, too, disappeared, that was exactly what Kiana prayed for.


	16. The Departure of Cedric

Chapter Sixteen: The Departure of Cedric

All the pictures that hung in my memory before I knew you have faded and given place to our radiant moments together. Now I cannot live apart from you...Your words are my food, your breath my wine. You are everything to me.

**- ****Sarah Bernhardt**

Harry stared out the window of his home in Fulham, England through dull eyes. The rain poured down hard upon the roof, echoing throughout the house. The voices echoing from the kitchen normally would have distracted him, but Harry had mastered the art of living inside his head.

He had lost everything in only three days. Kiana's infidelity (although he had never completely believed she had acted willingly) had seemed like the major crisis at the time, but now he knew it had only been the preliminary disaster before the final torture. Harry thought he had suffered tremendously during his years at Hogwarts, but everything paled in comparison to Kiana leaving him.

Harry tried to recall every moment they had spent together before Dumbledore had reentered their lives and destroyed their blissful existence. He envisioned Kiana as she truly was – the brunette American girl who had a smile that mirrored the stars. Her playfulness and wicked sense of humor had entertained him for days on end, and every day he had thought of something new they could experience together.

Voldemort had not only destroyed his wife's body, mind and soul, but he had stolen their future as a couple and parents to…

Harry closed his eyes in distress, unable to think about his son. Darrin had been yet another loved one snatched from him. His child's current location was now a closely guarded secret, because the first thing Voldemort would try to do would be to torture the answer out of Harry. Dumbledore had tried to save Harry further pain by keeping Darrin's whereabouts a secret, but knowing his son was now living without both his parents was the final blow. Harry had almost given up after that, but some small shred of hope stubbornly refused to be destroyed.

He was still determined to fight for Kiana, and he knew his opportunity was fast approaching. But he couldn't act on his desires yet, because Dumbledore had received word from Snape that Voldemort knew of Darrin's existence and was determined to endlessly search for him. (Apparently, Voldemort refused to believe that Snape continued to work as a spy. It was one flaw in the Dark Lord's mind that brought Dumbledore some comfort).

Hermione entered the sitting room hesitantly with a steaming mug in her hands. "Harry?"

He didn't give her any sign that he had heard her.

Hermione sighed and looked down into the depths of the cup. "I brought you some tea; maybe it'll help you sleep. You're going to pass out soon if you don't rest."

He paused before speaking in a voice so low and grave it didn't bear any resemblance to him at all. "Sleep is the last of my priorities, Hermione."

Hermione shook her head in silent disagreement as she set the mug on the coffee table by the sofa. She turned toward her best friend again and tried to speak, but words escaped her. She tried again a moment later and managed to murmur, "You're going to kill yourself without food or sleep, Harry. Everyone knows it…Dumbledore knows it. He's going to take charge and force you to take care of yourself if you keep this up any longer."  
Harry didn't seem to blink as he stared unseeing at the dark street. "I will die one way or another if she doesn't come back."

He spoke the words in a dead whisper, but Hermione heard him as clearly as if he had screamed. Hermione moaned softly and pressed her fingers to her temples. Exhaustion overcame her and she felt unable to argue with him, but she hoped that her meager attempts at warnings and chastisements would get through to him. She had lost Kiana and her godchild in only a few days, and she didn't think she'd ever heal if she watched Harry wither away from his own grief.

After she left, Harry groaned and pressed his forehead against the cold glass of the window. He closed his eyes and imagined for one moment that he was somewhere else…anywhere else. Somewhere where the grief and pain didn't hit him like knifes every time he breathed.

A flash of light lit up the sky outside like a firecracker before it withered and died. Harry blinked a few times before comprehension settled in. He straightened and inhaled deeply as his friends filed in behind him, their faces stricken as if a gun shot had fired.

Harry turned toward them – his eyes still deep and grave – and studied each one carefully. Hermione glanced quickly from the window to Harry and back again, the color draining from her face. Ron studied Harry with a deep frown, guessing where Harry's thoughts lay.

"What is it?" Ron asked without much emotion. He had been prepared for a new disaster to befall every minute he was awake.

Harry grabbed his wand from his jacket pocket. "They're coming."

Hermione gasped. "That was Dumbledore's signal?"

Harry nodded solemnly, his face expressionless. "He knew the Death Eaters would find our house at one time or another, and I told him there was no reason for us to hide. Darrin isn't with us, so we don't have to worry about physically protecting him."

"_What?_" Hermione shrieked as Harry turned toward the door. "_Please _don't tell me you're going to do what I think…"

"They came looking for me," Harry replied as he walked slowly toward the front door. "I'm going to give them what they want."

"_NO!_" Hermione lunged and pressed him against the wall with a force from her wand. She pressed her wand's tip into his chest and tried to hold him there. "I thought you wanted to _fight _for Kiana, Harry; not give yourself up like a suicidal idiot!"

The blankness of his gaze terrified her more than his actions. It was like his soul had already left his body. "Hermione, you know the Death Eaters would never be allowed to kill me. They might try and attack me, but they will have orders from Voldemort to keep me alive. Voldemort will want to deal with me personally, just like he's always wanted since I was a year old."

"What if Voldemort is out there?" Hermione cried back in his face.

"Then Dumbledore would be here to tell us so." His mellow tone was the complete opposite of hers. "I told him to keep watch around the house and only leave his post if Voldemort or Kiana was among the Death Eaters. This visit of theirs is exactly what Dumbledore and I expected, and we know how it'll end."

"You can't go out there alone, Harry," Ron cut in.

"Of course I can!" Harry shot back powerfully. "And I won't allow either one of you to follow me. Voldemort probably won't have given any orders to keep you both alive."

"So we're just supposed to watch as you die?" Hermione gasped.

Harry hung his head as he pushed open the front door. "Dumbledore will be with you if it gets bad, but he doesn't wish to be seen right now. If he comes, he'll repeat my exact words: I'm in no danger right now. I'm only doing this to protect my son, and if you care about him, too, then you'll stay out of the way."

He left them stunned in the house and walked with fake confidence to the woods behind the neighborhood, the same place where Cedric had taken Kiana.

Harry tried not to recall the all-too-recent events, but he vividly remembered the agonizing pain and longing Kiana sent him as she lay on the ground, a captive in Ron's hands.

_Wherever you are, Kiana, know that I'm with you, _he thought as a dark mass of shapes converged on him. _I'm doing this for Darrin…and for you._

Bellatrix led the group of five Death Eaters into the small clearing. Their wand lights barely illuminated every face gathered, but Harry caught the pale shape of Severus Snape among the mass of dark cloaks. It was the first time they had laid eyes upon each other since Snape's untimely death in the Shrieking Shack, and neither man felt comfortable enough to hold each other's gaze. Harry vaguely wondered whether Snape's façade of working alongside the Death Eaters would falter if he was asked to help kill Darrin.

Bellatrix stopped her lot a good ten feet from Harry. She extended her arms in mock welcome.

"Harry Potter," the witched hissed menacingly. "How long it has been! You've grown into more of a man than anyone ever thought, and I see you're keeping your celebrity status alive as an Auror-in-Training at the Ministry. Never could withdraw from that stimulating drug of being the hero, could you, Potter?"

Harry clenched his jaw and didn't reply, his eyes automatically scouring the Death Eaters for the one face he both dreaded and longed to see.

Bellatrix's upper lip curled with derision. "Your precious wife isn't here, Potter; she wasn't allowed to come. Thanks to Dumbledore's careful attempts to keep your bloody connection intact, her mind isn't functioning properly at the moment."

Harry quickly glimpsed the meaning of her shadowed words: Kiana didn't possess as much hatred for him as Voldemort wished she did. She still had doubt over his role in her life, and this fueled Harry's small candle of hope. Kiana was not lost to him yet.

Bellatrix must have caught something on his face, for her eyebrows lowered in disapproval. "You're a fool to believe she still loves you, Potter, just like she's a fool for believing the Dark Lord won't find and slaughter your son. You've never been hard to read, boy; I know you're going to fight for her soon, but the Dark Lord had prepared for your actions long ago. If you have any intelligence left, you'd be wise to forfeit any attempts at searching for her. Do you wish to die just for her, Potter? Think of your son, who would grow up a neglected orphan just like you did."

Her words were meant to spark either sorrow or hatred in him, but Harry had been too severely injured emotionally to feel anything at her careful lies. He raised his wand and spoke with detached emotion. "Your words have lost any power they once had, Bellatrix. You have underestimated me if you think I can be forced to fight or retreat with only your poisonous voice. And as for your task today, you have come to a dead end. No living human here knows the location of my son, not even I. Unless you wish to attack me without cause, your plot has already failed. Report to your master what I have told you and leave Fulham."

Bellatrix hissed angrily through her teeth and shot a look at Snape. "He doesn't lie," he told her steadily.

Before Harry could protect himself, Bellatrix raced toward him in a black blur and threw him against a tree, holding him there with a strong hand around his throat. Harry gasped for breath as he experienced for the first time the physical power the undead possessed.

Bella leaned in until their faces were inches apart. "You're right to suspect that you cannot be killed tonight, but know that both your death and your son's is creeping ever closer. And when Dumbledore receives news of your death and Kiana's complete transformation, he will be helpless to create further resistance as we take control of the wizarding world. I can promise you that your son will be the first priority of the Dark Lord's. You only have so many days left to remain in your childish hope."

Bella's wand twitched and she ground her teeth together, struggling against the desire to curse him. Instead, she released her hold on him and tossed him to the dirt. She kicked him hard in the stomach before she stalked back to the gathered Death Eaters. They disappeared with sour expressions.

Harry remained on the ground for several minutes until the pain in his stomach eased and he breathed more easily. Gathering the strength to stand, he walked slowly back to his house with renewed determination to meet Voldemort face-to-face. Although his chance of success now seemed as dim as ever, Harry wouldn't let himself surrender to the Death Eaters' power as their hold on Kiana grew.

He may enter the battle already a martyr, but he wouldn't let the breath leave his body until he had seen Kiana's face one last time and told her he loved her.

"That's _pathetic, _girl! I know you are weak, but to show your weakness to your opponent is the same as begging for death. You do not deserve the honorable title of 'Death Eater' dueling as you are! If I had the Dark Lord's permission to torture you until you are on the edge of death, I wouldn't hesitate one…"

"Your threats are doing nothing to help her improve," Cedric spoke over her. He leaned against a tree as he watched Kiana battle her mentor.

Bellatrix's eyes widened and she thrust a spell at him, which Cedric dodged lazily with his wand.

"I can't overcome my human condition, Bellatrix," Kiana mumbled as she shot another curse at the witch. "You'll have to lessen your harsh punishments until I can bear them."

"You deserve further torture for speaking that rubbish!" Bella grazed Kiana's shoulder with a spell, and Kiana's cloak seared with flame. Kiana doused the flame with her wand and angrily studied her blackened skin. "I would've given you up as a hopeless case if I hadn't been pressured by the Dark Lord to train you every day. He hopes you'll grow even more powerful once transformed if I start training you now. Your magic is amazingly weak for how old you are, Karn. Did you stop using your powers once you thought you were safe with Potter? You _disgust _me."

Kiana narrowed her gaze and brought strength to her voice. "_Crucio!_"

Her spell missed Bella's shoulder by an inch. "Better, Karn," the witch replied. "You keep all that hate suppressed and don't use it to your advantage. Your spells _will _be weak if you don't put your mind and will behind them. That's why you haven't yet found the will to kill Potter; you're too weak to conjure up hatred toward him."

Kiana cried out in frustration and thrust another spell at her mentor, which was pared quickly. "Why does that boy have to appear in every conversation of yours?" she asked. "What do you expect me to say when you talk of my many failures where he's concerned? He's never coming back…he's dead to me, Bellatrix!"

Bella sneered and circled the girl. "You lie. You know as well as I do that one day soon he will try and avenge you. It's been a week since I paid him that little visit in the woods, but I know he's waiting for the right moment. He still senses when you're mentally vulnerable to him, and he'll wait until he has the best chance of you listening to him. For you _do_ realize he's been magically trying to reach you every moment of every day?"

Kiana paled and tried to cover up her guilt, but Bellatrix saw through her feeble mask.

"You haven't tried to contact him back because you're not sure how," Bella narrated with deep satisfaction. "You're still struggling to understand what he means to you, but the Dark Lord will soon solve that puzzle. If you don't want to become Potter's possession once more, you'll have to obey my orders. Is that clear, precious?"

Kiana swallowed hard and looked away, catching Cedric's eye. Cedric peered back at her with deep sorrow, and Kiana couldn't quite understand why.

After dueling for another fifteen minutes, Kiana's fatigue could not be pushed away. She staggered on the spot, and Cedric protectively wrapped his arms around her. She automatically relaxed against his sturdy form.

Bellatrix sighed and flicked her wand at her with irritation. "Go and rest, you weakling. Prepare for a longer training tomorrow." She disappeared to seek out the other Death Eaters who were searching fruitlessly for Kiana and Harry's firstborn. Kiana knew they relentlessly sought her son day and night, but she tried to push this fact from her mind. Agonizing over every minute, wondering if _this _was the moment her son would die, was too much for her tortured body and mind.

"Come on, Kiana." Cedric took her by the hand and led her to her pile of blankets on the ground of dead leaves. Cedric sat down and leaned his back against a trunk as Kiana nestled beside him. She rested her head upon his lap and closed her eyes as he rubbed her back with slow, delicate motions.

"I can't stand watching her slowly weaken you like that day after day," Cedric mumbled.

Kiana opened her eyes and pushed herself up on her elbows. She pulled his face down to hers and whispered, "Don't, Cedric, please. I don't need you feeling sorry for me. I've handled her tortures before, and I can handle them now. No, I _can_, Cedric!" For Cedric had sighed and looked doubtful. "I'm strong enough for any Death Eater; they have no power over me." She winced inwardly, knowing how false that last statement was. Her mind and soul certainly weren't resilient to their curses, which Snape had proved from day one.

Cedric kissed her softly on the lips. "You possess more bravery than I've ever had, Kiana."

She pressed her lips against his, lingering longer than was wise. A flash of another face pressed against her mind, and she cringed, pulling back and leaning away.

"You can't pretend anymore, Kiana," Cedric spoke softly. "He won't stop trying." He carefully brushed her thick hair out of her face. His touch felt more like the caresses of a comforting father than the electrifying strokes of a lover. Kiana's hands clenched and she pulled herself off Cedric entirely. She instinctively reached for her wand and gripped it as she turned her back on her partner.

"Kiana, please don't be upset."

"Upset?" she muttered, spinning to face him with incredulity. "Why would any of this make me _upset? _I've just lost the love of a man whom I had given my heart to, and now I'm being tracked and pestered by another man whom I had married but no longer love…"

Cedric frowned in disapproval at her fierce sarcasm. "So easily you speak these lies, and I'm afraid you'll truly believe them if you keep going as you are. You never loved me, Kiana; you were only forced to."

"No!" Kiana raised her wand to his chest as her jaw quivered with the beginnings of grief. "You're trying to make _yourself _believe that I never loved you so that you won't live with the guilt of breaking my heart! But just look at what you've done to me, Cedric…_look!_" She ran her hands down her body with quick, harsh movements. "I have no other options but to fall at Voldemort's feet and submit myself to Bellatrix's teachings because I have lost everything, Cedric! I've lost…"

In half a second, Cedric had risen and rushed toward her, pressing a hand against her mouth to halt her words. "Damn those heartless demons for making you believe that, Kiana!" A shiver rushed down her arms at the coldness of his words. "They have you just where they want you to be! Don't you understand? Only by making you believe the lie that no one cares for you will they be able to claim you! If no one loved you, Kiana, then why would Potter be spending every waking moment trying to reach you? He's not trying to _pester _you or claim you for his own. He would reluctantly leave you if he knew that you had truly stopped loving him, but he understands as well as I how fiercely Voldemort is smothering your soul."

Kiana pulled herself out of his grasp, a glimmer of tears blurring the forest as he spoke the very lies she had dreaded to hear. She didn't know why Cedric – full of disbelief and naivety - would pull himself away now. What had she done to destroy his love for her? Wasn't she enough?

As if he experienced her sorrow as his own, Cedric hung his head and pressed his hands against his eyes to thrust the world away. Kiana watched him struggle with his own thoughts until he lifted his head, and Kiana gasped at the stark determination in his eyes. She unconsciously took a step backwards, fearful of his next words.

"I didn't want to do this so soon, but it'll only destroy you further if I remain at your side." He seemed to be speaking to himself, but Kiana couldn't find the will to bolt like she wished to. He stepped forward and took her hands into his. She choked back a sob as he peered down at her with a terrible mix of sympathy and compassion.

"Kiana, I've been trapped with Voldemort for too long, and for awhile I thought I would remain like this for eternity. But then you came, and something like hope transformed my dismal mind. You're stronger than you think, Kiana, and I know you'll find a way to save yourself and Potter from Voldemort. But for now…" He pressed his lips together hard. "You have to let me go."

The breath caught in her throat, almost choking her. "_Go? _Go where?"

"Back home. Back to where I lived before Voldemort dragged me to earth and kept me here."

Kiana tried to escape from his grip, but he wouldn't even let her eyes drift away from his begging gaze. "You mean like…like…_no, _you're mental! You can't leave me here alone!"

Cedric took her shaking body into his arms, and his comfort trapped her there. She wept against his chest, and he didn't speak again until her sobs had lessened. Then he tilted her face upwards and wiped the tears from her cheeks. "I am not the one you need, Kiana," he whispered. "You don't realize it now, but you long for another soul a hundred times more desperately than for mine."

Kiana gritted her teeth together. "I don't love Potter, Cedric! I've never loved him!"

Cedric shook his head sadly. "I'm afraid Voldemort's curse will destroy you when I leave, but if you don't let me go and set your thoughts solely on him, he will die from your betrayal. Your magical connection with Potter is stronger than even this love spell of Voldemort's. It runs so deep within your heart that no one can destroy it. Did you not hear what Snape told Voldemort? The only thing he could do was _suppress_ the connection."

She had said these words a million times, but she kept talking in the vain hope that he would be distracted. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't remember having any sort of – _connection _with Harry Potter."

"You'll know it soon enough. He will come for you. He always does. Now let me go before it's too late. Only you can release me from this earthly sentence, because you're the only one I magically touched on earth. You have the power to release me, and you must do it before Voldemort discovers this secret."

Her moral conscience agreed with him, but her heart smothered those thoughts. Her body impulsively clung to him, with everything in her screaming out her sorrow. "NO! Cedric, you can't leave me! I love you! I can't survive Voldemort without you!"

Cedric continued to brush the tears from her cheeks. "Don't cry, Kiana; all this will soon be a dim memory to you. If you believe in yourself, you'll be able to return to your life – to Harry and to your son. They need you. I have been dead a long time, Kiana…too long. If you love me, you'll let me return to my true home."

"You'll have to force me," she hissed.

Cedric barely hesitated before he kissed her, and he didn't hold back this time. Kiana was disgusted at how easily her body gave into him, as if the love spell had not completely been destroyed.

When he drew back, Kiana was caught in his gaze. "Do you really love me?" he whispered.

"Yes," Kiana replied with longing. "Yes, I do."

"Then release me from this bondage. Let me finally be free."

Fresh tears appeared in her eyes. She knew she had lost. "Go, Cedric. If it makes you happy, go and be free."

He vanished in her hands as quickly and delicately as if the wind had lifted his soul and sent him to the sky.


	17. Final Hope

Chapter Seventeen: Final Hope

Henceforth there will be such a oneness between us –

That when one weeps the other will taste salt.

**Author Unknown**

Harry had fallen asleep from extreme exhaustion on the couch, but he slept fitfully, allowing the slightest sound to wake him. Ron and Hermione had refused to leave, so he had grudgingly allowed them to sleep in the guest bedroom upstairs.

But the whisper of a voice that drifted into his dreams didn't sound human to him.

Harry figured he was dreaming, so he didn't respond to the foreign voice. But it was persistent, and he tentatively opened his eyes to the shock of seeing the misty form of a ghost in his sitting room.

Harry bolted upright, tense and poised to run or Apparate. His heart hammered as he studied the face of the ghost and realized it was not a stranger.

Cedric drifted in and out of focus, almost like a hazy dream. What terrified Harry the most was that his current enemy was not appearing to him in his past undead, physical form. He was a spirit now, incorporeal and without much shape. If Harry hadn't constantly seen Cedric's face in his memory and heard his taunting voice, he probably wouldn't have recognized the spirit as Cedric. But Harry couldn't deny who appeared to him, and he knew – with a rush of coldness and fear – that Cedric would only choose to appear to him now if Kiana was in danger.

Harry didn't wait for the spirit to speak again. He didn't dare ask how Cedric had been released from Voldemort: That was the least of his concerns.

"Where is she? How can I find her?" he asked desperately.

Cedric already seemed to be fading, as if his appearance to Harry had cost him too much. His voice carried back to Harry from a long distance, like an echo. "She's not fifty kilometers away. My desertion has destroyed the last of her resistance, and it won't be long before Voldemort takes the opportunity and begins the transformation. I fear that by the time you reach her it'll already be too late."

Harry bolted to his feet with a surge of adrenaline. "Don't be pessimistic now, Cedric! I need any help I can…"

"I would do anything for her, but I can't help you." His spirit vanished into an indiscernible cloud, and his voice turned weak and low. "You'll be able to find her with the last of your connection, but you only have a few minutes. Be prepared for anything once you arrive."

Then Cedric was gone.

Harry knew he didn't have the time to forewarn Ron and Hermione of his plans. With his wand, he zapped a note onto the side table: his final good-bye he had prepared the night after he had met Kiana in the Great Hall. He knew they would hate him for doing so little before parting, but he hoped they would at least understand his urgency.

After taking several seconds to steady his breathing, Harry Disapparated to an unknown future. His only hope was that he wouldn't be separated from Kiana when the end came.

"You obviously know why he left you."

Kiana pushed the tears from her eyes as she stood, tense and silent, while Voldemort taunted and ridiculed her. She knew what he was doing, knew how his actions now were preparation for her final end, but she didn't know how much more she could handle without breaking down.

Voldemort smiled with vicious satisfaction as he watched her mental barriers break one by one. "Cedric didn't have the strength to watch as you gave into my powers, so he saved himself out of pure selfishness. He is a necessary loss, I'm afraid; he was only a tool to gain a more powerful servant – you. But I see in your mind that you haven't completely submitted to my will."

Kiana blinked hard and focused on his face. "You have taken everything from me. I'm standing before you without the strength to defend myself, and I even cast my wand aside. What more could you ask for?"

Voldemort didn't reply for awhile. He turned away and studied an invisible figure far out in the trees. "I see that, no matter how little affection remains in you for Potter, you can't force him from your mind. You admit that a life with him would be far easier than eternity with me, and this remains your final hope. In order to bring some equality to this battle, I'll give both of you one last chance to prove that you are still bound to each other." He faced Kiana suddenly with flashing red eyes. "Call Potter to you _now_, Karn, and if he answers and arrives at your side within three minutes, both of you can go free. But I shall not allow him to come one moment past the allotted time; is that understood?"

Kiana's eyes widened as she took in the Dark Lord's words.

"Ah, I see you do not trust my merciful actions." Voldemort laughed low. "But now it doesn't matter, girl. Regardless of whether I am being honest or not, this is your last chance to be with him. Once the time is up, you will never see your lover again. So what do you say, girl? Will you accept my offer?"  
Kiana swallowed hard and successfully kept her eyes dry. Her whisper came out dead and cold. "I will give the boy his last chance, my lord."

"Excellent," he hissed. "Now call him to you; your time is already disappearing."

Unable to do much else, Kiana fell to her knees and squeezed her eyes shut with a fierce desire to disappear from the earth as easily as Cedric had. She unleashed the last fragment of the longing she still held for Harry, and used what she could find of their connection to call out to him. She almost laughed at herself, for her inner cries seemed only to echo back to her. But she persisted, for the first time pulling at the threads of connection she still felt in her soul and screaming at him with unconcealed fear.

_Harry. Harry! Can you hear me? Are you still there? _

Silence. Tomblike silence that cut into her mind like knives.

_Harry, this is your…our last chance to see each other. After that, I will be lost to you. So please…please don't forsake me. Come now. _

The more the minutes slipped past her - their speed increased as if by magic - the more she felt Voldemort's power growing inside her. She felt his possession as fully as she felt the ground under her legs, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw the Dark Lord prepare the Almater potion to take her out of the mortal world forever.

Kiana's breaths increased until she was gasping. The forest around her remained bare except for her and her captor, and as the last seconds of her life flashed past her like the sands of Time, she fully realized that Harry Potter had lost all love for her. He knew her as dead and wouldn't dare risk his life trying to save her.

The Almater potion wasn't a potion for long. Once Voldemort added the final mysterious ingredient, the liquid transformed into gas and flowed with a lethally slow pace toward her. Kiana hung her head and closed her eyes, everything within her submitting to her fate.

"Kiana! _Kiana!"_

The ghosts whispered to her, but she couldn't respond. Not yet.

The smoke surrounded her, suffocating her as it entered through her nose, eyes, and mouth, covering her mind and soul with its power. It pulled her forcefully to the earth, immobilizing her body as it destroyed her tissues, organs, and blood. Kiana tried to scream, but her voice had been destroyed long before. She convulsed with the agony of her transformation, and the voices around her wouldn't let her go.

"_NO! KIANA!"_

Even with her mind disappearing with alarming speed, she recognized his voice. And it wasn't his voice from her memory. He spoke from beside her.

His touch jolted her to consciousness, and her eyes flew open to land on his terrified face. She had never seen him look so tortured, as if he were the one suffering under Voldemort's transformation. His body trembled as he pulled her closer to him, and she distinctly heard the rapid pace of his heart.

"Kiana…love…" He could barely speak now, and Kiana wasn't sure why. He laid a shaking hand upon her cheek, caressing her skin with such delicateness that tears came to her eyes.

She opened her mouth, desperately trying to speak any words to lessen the grief portrayed on his face, but she couldn't. She tried to move her arm to wipe the tears from his cheeks, but life was fading from her more quickly than she had anticipated. Her pitiful attempts to communicate only worsened his pain, and he hung his head, sobbing and screaming against her.

Kiana's gaze wandered to the sky, and she watched the colors and details of the world haze and vanish as rapidly as the pace of Harry's heart. Her body jerked and shook in her husband's grip, but he didn't let her go. She gasped for breath as her lungs shut down, but Voldemort's potion had almost finished its devastating work, and she lost all perception of Harry's touch. One final breath of air escaped through her mouth before her beaten body became limp in Harry's arms. Her eyes closed, and Kiana drifted away into unconsciousness.

Voices swarmed around her like the wind, echoing and vanishing so quickly she had trouble catching all the words. The voices came from no perceivable source, and Kiana guessed they had followed her to this other world.

"_Try to reach her as often as you wish, Potter. Soon you must accept the truth. Your wife as you knew her is dead."_

_"What have you done to her?" _

_"Only transformed her into the witch she was always meant to be. She was never yours, Potter; you've known that since the day you saw her Dark Mark. She will forever be mine, no matter how long you fight for her."_

_ "You know as well as I that I will die the moment I desert her, so I'd rather perish fighting you than run away a heartless coward!"_

"_But you do realize that you're not fighting for Kiana anymore? Your delicate, vulnerable American wife is gone. You now fight to save the life of a British, homicidal Death Eater."_

Screams of agony rippled past her, but Kiana couldn't respond in any way. She had become lifeless, incorporeal…like a ghost. She allowed her conscious to slip away until the voices vanished from her surroundings, and Kiana waited for the moment when she would return to the earth as an undead servant to the Dark Lord.

That moment didn't come. Instead, a new light engulfed her world, enlarging and flowing like the tide. In moments, her world of blankness and despair had transformed into memorable shapes and sensations. First came the sky, light blue and free of clouds. Then a distant sun made its appearance, sending rays of warm, colorful light onto the land.

Kiana glanced down to find her bare feet sunk deep into the sands of the beach. Cool waves splashed against her ankles, although the cold didn't touch her. A light, flowing dress cascaded around her figure, although she did not seem to inhabit a normal body. She felt as light and free as a spirit, although she could only guess how she appeared to an outsider.

Just when Kiana was about to explore this strange world, a tall figure approached her from the opposite end of the shore. The sun's light obscured her vision and prevented her from making out every part of the person; he or she seemed to be a walking beam of light. She remained still, cautious and observant in case this was another trap of Voldemort's. Surely she hadn't escaped his hold that easily…

Kiana's defenses shattered when Harry Potter approached her on the beach. His bright form and loving smile almost brought her to her knees: She had never seen him look so beautiful. His green eyes gleamed with inner contentment as he stepped closer and brought his hands to her face.

"Kiana." His voice traveled to her like an echo or a delicate whisper, although he stood only inches from her. His presence seemed whole yet ethereal, and when he touched her, all she felt was warmth. All weariness and grief had vanished from his features, and he smiled down at her like she possessed everything he had ever longed for.

She couldn't respond; all reason and sense seemed to have left her. All she felt and experienced was Harry, and she wondered why she had ever, _ever _yearned for anyone else.

"Don't be afraid, love," he told her. "You're safe with me now. I won't let anyone touch you."

Grief swelled within her at these words, although she could not form tears. "We're dead, then," she stated with finality. "Voldemort's killed us both, and soon I'll have to…"

"Shh, love." Harry pulled her to him, and she lost every fragment of fear in her heart. Complete security engulfed her like a blanket, making her forget what she had feared in the first place. "Don't worry about Voldemort. For this one moment, he can't touch you."

"This one moment?" She didn't want to – indeed, it almost destroyed her to act – but she pulled away and looked up into his now serious eyes. "What happened, Harry? Please tell me."

He sighed and motioned out to sea. She turned and observed the delicate waves, heard the cry of gulls over the deep blue, and felt the warm water crash against her ankles. "Do you remember this place, Kiana?"

She began to shake her head, but she stopped herself mid-motion. She glanced behind her at the dark forest and the rolling hills, and comprehension finally set in.

"This is where…is this really where…"

He smiled warmly. "Yes. This is where I pledged my love to you, and you accepted everything I offered. My life started the day you agreed to be my wife, Kiana, and never once have I regretted that decision."

Grief from the other world flew back to her in a rush of memories and emotions, and she buried her face in her hands. "No, Harry," she whispered. "No, you can't do this. Please don't try for my sake; I've been lost for too long, and I've caused you too much pain. Why are you _still _trying to save me after what I put you through? Or are you just trying to save yourself from death when the transformation completes?"

Harry's face darkened and he frowned down at her in a way Kiana knew all too well. She instantly knew how deeply her words had struck his heart.

"I…I'm sorry," she stammered. "That was so wrong of me to say."

"It's not unexpected," Harry replied after a moment. His voice had dropped a level, sounding even more pained. "Voldemort still covers your thoughts, even here."

"Where is here?" she couldn't help asking.

She caught a hint of his old humor as he raised a corner of his lips in half a smile. "I'm not as incompetent with magic as I thought. I'm here to show you the truth one last time before…" He stopped and pressed his lips together to halt a rush of emotions.

"Before what?" She already knew the answer, but she had to hear the truth.

She knew tears would've fallen from his eyes if it were possible. "Before Voldemort takes you from me once and for all."

"You can't give up, Harry." She forced herself to persuade him otherwise, although everything in her soul screamed at him to stay. "You have to live for our son. You can't desert him. My path was set long ago."

"He needs his mother," Harry countered quickly. "I won't let him grow up without you."

"I've destroyed everything by forsaking you. I don't deserve you anymore. I don't deserve anything."

He closed the gap between them in two strides and took her back into his arms. He held her chin up until she locked gazes with him. "I won't let you talk like that, Kiana. Voldemort has destroyed too much in you, but I refuse to accept it. That's why I'm still fighting for you, because I won't let you die without letting you know with all my strength that I'm still here for you. My love for you has not changed, no matter what Voldemort has forced you to believe."

She tried to back away; his warmth and love was too much for her frazzled mind. She believed wholeheartedly what she had told him, and somehow she couldn't trust his words…even now. She couldn't believe that this was truly him and not a vision from Voldemort. She remembered how the Almater potion had encompassed all of her, destroying her physical body until all she had left was her injured soul. How could Harry be with her now when Voldemort had taken everything from her?

"Kiana, please don't do this to me." His pleas made her shake even in the warmth of his love. "Please don't reject me when I have given all I have to bring you back."

Something within her – more than likely the darkness from Voldemort's possession – forced her to speak the words she tried unsuccessfully to smother. "Harry, you must leave me to my fate. I won't let you die just because of me. Leave now and you may still live to see our son."

Harry's grip upon her tightened and his eyes poured down his love and grief until it was almost palpable. "I thought you'd learned the truth a long time ago, Kiana. No matter what you may say to persuade me otherwise, I will die with you tonight."

With unshed grief in both their eyes, Kiana watched with horror as Harry and the beach slowly vanished before her eyes, as if everything was being sucked into the black nothingness of space. She tried to scream but found she no longer could.

With complete desolation, Kiana waited for what came next. She knew, more than likely, that she would awake to find her worst fears confirmed and Harry gone from her forever.

Voldemort finally broke through their connection, and Harry felt Kiana drift away from him. He screamed at her to return, but Voldemort had closed her off from him. Harry could do nothing as Voldemort forced him to Apparate back to his house in Fulham. A cruel voice echoed inside his head: _"As much as I long to kill you, Potter, you will suffer more if you live for awhile longer. You will experience all as your beloved wife binds her soul to me, and very soon you will die." _

Hermione and Ron found him collapsed against the couch, his face tense with agony as he experienced the complete separation between himself and Kiana. And no matter what his friends did to bring him back to the world, he couldn't find the strength to return.

_"You're not going to die before me. That's rubbish."_

_ Kiana laughed and kissed him once on each cheek. "It's just mandatory planning, Harry. Don't take it so seriously."_

_ Harry's frown deepened. "I don't care how _mandatory _it is. I don't enjoy talking about your death."_

_ Kiana laid against his chest as Harry placed an arm protectively around her. "Death is something that'll happen to all of us, Harry, at one time or another. What would you do if I died before you?"_

_ Harry didn't hesitate. "I'd follow you. I'd follow you anywhere."_

_ "Don't be an idiot! What if we leave behind children?"_

_ "Better give them to Ron and Hermione than force them to live with a depressed father until they're adults."_

_ "That's terrible, Harry!" Kiana frowned and sat up, studying his face. "I expect the father of my children to have more common sense than that! I'll have to marry someone else if my kids will automatically lose two parents with my death."_

_ Harry stared back at her with equal seriousness. "What's so terrible about me not wanting to live a moment without you?"_

_ Kiana rolled her eyes. "I thought you weren't a romantic, Harry. That stuff is only for dramatic fiction where that kind of hopeless passion is allowed. In real life it's different. There are certain…obligations that must be followed."_

_ Harry urged her to lean back against him and she grudgingly obeyed. He stroked her soft brown hair and studied the night sky without really seeing it. "You'd be lonely in the afterlife without me, anyway," he said after a moment. "If we were together, you could lie in my arms for eternity and we'd never experience heartache, tears, or fatigue again. Doesn't that sound good to you?"_

_ Kiana chuckled softly. "And what about those poor children we deserted on earth?"_

_ "They'd get over it."_

_ Kiana gasped and punched him lightly in the stomach. Harry laughed and held up his hands in defense. "I'm joking, Kiana! Bloody hell, don't take this so seriously."_

_ "This is supposed to be serious, Harry!"_

_ "I prefer to think more about us being together in the afterlife than your death. Can you spare me some pain by at least agreeing to be with me when we're both dead?"_

_ "I guess," Kiana mumbled. "But you'd better not blindly follow me if I…"_

_ "Okay, okay, I won't."_

_ "You're not very convincing."_

_ "That's the best I can do. I'm not an actor." Harry smiled down at her, and Kiana groaned and closed her eyes against his chest._

_ "I still may find another father for my future children," Kiana mumbled as she drifted off to sleep. _

By living in his memories, Harry could pretend he wasn't trapped in a hopeless existence. He could imagine his wife as she was once but could never be again. He could close his eyes and laugh with her and never remember that he now laughed alone.

But alone he was. He did not stay in Fulham long after Voldemort had forced him away from Kiana. He did not care that he was still alive, though Ron and Hermione had been in tears at this unexpected occurrence. They had begged him to stay, and this first experience of his friends literally begging for his presence almost destroyed his will, but he knew he couldn't remain in a house where the memories of Kiana screamed at him and tore open his heart. Before he disappeared out the front door, the only solace he could give them was the false promise that he would return by evening after he'd sorted through his thoughts.

If his words had been as obvious a falsehood to them as they were to him, he knew Ron and Hermione would expect the worse. They probably didn't expect him to return – ever.

Harry ran through the outskirts of London in crazed madness until his depleted body forced him to stop. Collapsing upon the grass, he screamed out his all-consuming agony until his sobs made it impossible to continue. He didn't care about anything anymore, least of all who heard him. He tried his hardest to cut out the world, to release his soul to where Kiana remained. But the physical world kept him in its iron grip, locking him down and tormenting his mind. His soul screamed and fought to be released from its heavy cell, but he could not free himself.

He knew now how hopeless it was. His last attempt to save her had failed; Voldemort had destroyed her soul too much already for her mind to comprehend his actions and accept his love. She would not – could not – return to him. What else could he do but admit defeat and enter the grave?

Instantly he sat up, his heart racing as the answer set in. His hands dug into the ground until his fingers sunk deep into the dirt, and he cursed himself for not acting sooner.

"I'm sorry I failed you, Kiana," he breathed to the still night air. "If I cannot save you and keep you with me, then at least know that I spent my last breaths fighting for you."

Harry wished he could see his son one last time (wherever he was), but Harry knew that someone would catch onto his decision quickly and stop him from taking any further actions. There was no time for explanations, no time for goodbyes. He had to act while he still could. He'd never forgive himself if he lost her to Voldemort forever because of his slow movements.

He Disapparated knowing he'd never return home again.


	18. With a Sacrifice

Chapter Eighteen: With a Sacrifice

In dreams and in love there are no impossibilities.

**- Janos Arany**

It was not as she expected. It was peaceful here, warm…loving. Almost perfect. There existed no pressure upon her mind or body, and she floated as if nothing more than air. The past, present and future didn't matter here, and time was nothing more than a word. She couldn't describe where she was, what she saw, or what she thought about it all, but none of that mattered. She simply existed in this blissful space on the edge of time and space, not touching either.

Then a presence appeared at her side, and it spoke to her with loving, compassionate words. The spirit didn't speak English, but Kiana understood the language as well as she understood herself.

Suddenly she realized it wasn't an _it: _The spirit was someone she knew and loved.

_"Kiana."_

She would've wept with joy if she still possessed a body. _"Cedric? Is that really you?"_

_ "Yes."_

_ "Where are we?"_

_ "We are between worlds, for you haven't made your decision yet."_

_ "My decision?"_

_ "Yes. You have left your body for a time but haven't returned to Voldemort. You are free to decide for yourself where you long to be."_

Cedric brought her past back to her with a painful lurch. It hurt to recall what she longed to forget, but the faces of her loved ones – especially Harry's – beckoned to her, so she stayed with the memories. She didn't push Cedric away, although she knew she could have. She could choose to ignore him entirely and not take any action.

But would Harry survive if she did?

She reluctantly answered him. _"I thought I had no choices. I thought I had to return to Voldemort."_

_ "He doesn't know of matters of life and death. He doesn't know exactly how souls and bodies are transformed into the undead. He doesn't know that there are choices."_

She pondered this, reanalyzing everything she thought she had known. She shook the thoughts away. _"I don't want to return, Cedric. For the first time in almost a year I'm finally free of all earthly pain and suffering. Why would I choose to return to that place of despair when I've been released?"_

_ "I can't answer that, Kiana. Only you can decide your own fate. That's the power of free will, given to every soul from the moment he or she was created."_

She remained silent for a moment, choosing her words carefully. _"I need time, Cedric. You can't ask this of me so suddenly."_

_ "Time to think is something you don't have here, Kiana. As we speak, your body is deteriorating. Your husband, too, drifts away from the world as he suffers from your desertion. I'll leave you to decide, but remember those souls who would suffer most over your decision."_

He left her in a world less bright than before, and for the first time, Kiana wished that Voldemort really had taken away her free will.

He did not think, feel, or even comprehend as he walked to where they stood. His soul and mind seemed to float high above his body as he took mechanical steps toward his enemies. Twigs snapped under his shoes and branches slapped across his face, leaving bloody marks behind. Harry felt none of this. In his insane, almost hypnotized, mind, he only saw Kiana's shining brown eyes and heard her enchanting laugh. No one existed for him except her.

Voldemort and his Death Eaters waited expectantly for him and didn't raise a single wand as he approached and stopped a dozen yards away.

Harry raised his wandless arms in surrender and called out high and clear. "I am yours to use, Voldemort. Kill me straightaway or take away my mind and turn me into one of your robotic killing machines. I don't care. Just spare her; I beg you! Take me in her place and I won't defend myself."

No one moved. No one spoke. All their eyes locked onto his, and even Bellatrix saw the truth in his eyes and didn't taunt him. Snape turned away, anguish flashing across his face. Voldemort slowly smiled and crept closer.

"I didn't think I'd ever understand the connection you have with her, Potter. For you to give up everything and let me into your mind without resistance…it's unimaginable! But your cause is in vain, for your wife is beyond anyone's reach now. Even mine. She has left her body and I'm her only destination. She has no place else to go and no one to aide her."

The Dark Lord extended his arms and laughed with chilling menace. "But what an unexpected ending! Not only do I have claim on Kiana for eternity, but now I have Harry Potter as well. Two souls, once connected, now my eternal servants who obey no one's will but my own."

_"Harry!"_

Her voice spooked him and sent his mind whirling. His jaw locked and he spontaneously backed up. Voldemort and the Death Eaters saw his face and fell silent.

_"Harry, don't do this! I'm not worth it. Flee now and save your life!"_

Once the shock passed, Harry clenched his teeth and screamed out in reply. "Enough, Voldemort! Is there no end to your torture? I've given you everything I have, and I'm laying both my mind and body at your feet! But don't…"

_"Harry, you know it's me! I'm fine, Harry; I've made my decision. Run now before it's too late."_

Voldemort's eyes widened with alarm, and Harry almost fell to the ground in overpowering relief. It was her; Voldemort's expression couldn't dispute it. She was not within the Dark Lord's hold yet.

Dumbledore Apparated in front of him before Harry could react to Kiana's words. The Headmaster's wand reached out toward Voldemort, and his tense face was impossible to read. "You shall not touch Harry." His fierce voice rebounded through the forest. "He is not yours to claim."

Voldemort hissed through his teeth and raised his own wand in opposition. His followers – all except Snape, who backed away – followed suite.

"You're all fools!" The Dark Lord roared. Harry grimaced at the rage in his voice. "You think you can win so late in the game? The girl's fate was decided months ago. _No one _can save her now!"

"I never disagreed with you," Dumbledore calmly replied. "But in your prolonged confidence, you didn't analyze exactly what happens to a soul who leaves their body. You're wrong when you announced that Kiana only has one destination. She's already made her choice, and it was a choice she made of her own free will."

The moment he spoke, a girl with rich black hair Apparated beside Dumbledore, and the response among all was instantaneous. Every soul except Dumbledore backed away and stared, stunned beyond any vocal reaction, at the girl they all thought was dead.

Kiana, her body shaking slightly as she raised her wand at Voldemort, was pale but whole, her dark eyes narrowed at the Dark Lord. Her voice echoed almost as loudly as Dumbledore's had.

"Enough of this!" she cried. "Your reign has endured too long, Voldemort. Your curses of terror and pain have ended! When I left my body I clearly saw the truth before me – the truth you kept from me. I made the conscious choice to return to my body and save the only man I've ever truly loved. Now all the dead will return to their eternal resting place, and the living shall remain untouched by your powers."

Voldemort sneered after recovering from the shock of her presence. "How touching for you to choose Potter in the end, but unfortunately your power ends with your heroic speech. For the body you live within, Kiana, still belongs to me. The love spell may be gone, but my Mark and its power still control your actions. What can a weak witch such as yourself do to return us to the grave? Your magic is useless!"

Kiana sighed and lowered her wand. "You're right." She gripped her wand tightly with both wands and held it out to her audience. "My magic _is _useless…to me. But it'll make all the difference to you."

Harry watched in horror as she snapped her wand in half and threw the pieces to the ground.

"_No!"_ Harry lunged forward, but Dumbledore now stood between him and Kiana, blocking him with a magical force. Harry screamed out to her, but she pretended she was deaf to his calls.

Voldemort and his followers stood armed and poised to strike, but they wavered on the spot, casting each other suspicious glances. Voldemort watched Kiana carefully but didn't cast any spell, either out of confusion or his overwhelming certainty that there was no battle to be lost.

"I was the first mortal you hurt," Kiana announced. "Therefore I'm the only one who can will you back to the grave…with a sacrifice." She murmured words under her breath, and her wand flashed a brilliant red. Several Death Eaters shielded their eyes and backed away as the light's power increased. "Return to your rightful place and never set foot upon the earth again." Kiana's voice, magically magnified, rang in the still air. Harry watched, mystified, as her wand shot jets of light across the ground, blazing the grass and arousing cries of rage from the Death Eaters.

"I give all that I have, all the magic that flows through my veins, to you, Voldemort, and to all who came through the Arch and the Veil. May its power be enough to end your reign."

This time Voldemort struck, but his spell was instantly blocked by a blast from Kiana's broken wand. It left Voldemort frozen in horror. Each bolt of light struck closer to the Death Eaters until one finally collided with Bellatrix…who vanished with a shriek. One by one, the Death Eaters disappeared, and Voldemort let out a scream of fury before he also vanished in a misty haze.

In a minute it was over. All the dead were gone, including Dumbledore, who had smiled with compassion at Harry and Kiana before he returned to the afterlife.

Only Harry and Kiana now remained. Spasms of shock rippled through Harry, making it impossible for him to move. When he regained enough willpower to step toward his wife, Kiana's wand – the broken weapon Harry thought had died for good – shot one final blast and hit Kiana straight in the chest. She screamed as her body glowed with foreign power and she crumbled to the ground.

Harry moaned in agony and raced to her, catching her before her head hit the dirt.

"Kiana!" He lifted her face toward his and scanned her body anxiously. She did not seem physically injured, but her face showed otherwise. Tears streamed from her eyes as she gasped for breath, her hand clutched against her breast.

"Kiana, speak to me!" Harry cried, pressing his palm to her cheek. "Don't leave me again, _please!_"

Amazingly, a smile touched her lips. She lifted a shaking hand and caressed his wet face. "Don't worry, love; everything's alright now." Her weak voice pained him like nothing else. "Bring me home to my son. I've missed him so."

Before Harry could reply, her eyes closed and she fainted against his chest, the small smile still on her face.

All her magic was gone. Every last bit of power in her veins had been destroyed, transforming her into a normal Muggle.

Harry should've known this the moment she fainted in his arms, but his sorrow had concealed the truth. Now, with their connection renewed and whole, the truth blazed in his face.

And he blamed himself. He blamed himself for everything.

Kiana remained unconscious for a whole week, the blow to her body so powerful she was forced into a coma. Her body slowly adjusted to the absence of magic in her blood, but it took an unbearably long amount of time.

Harry barely ate and refused to sleep more than a few hours a night as he waited for Kiana to awaken. Hermione and Ron rushed to his side after hearing what had transpired, but no matter how often they verbally and physically tried to comfort him, Harry could not heal from their love. No person or act of kindness could console him as he slowly adjusted to the truth: Kiana was no longer a witch, and she'd never become one again.

Harry drove himself to the brink of insanity for the second time as he thought about what this meant for her life now. How could she continue her job at the Ministry when she was a Muggle? How could she teach magic to their son when she couldn't perform the simplest spell? And most of all, how could she protect herself from the Dark Arts when she was as weak as a Muggle child?

"She's alive, Harry," Hermione reminded him over and over. "She sacrificed her magic so that she could live with you and Darrin. Don't make this seem worse than it is."

He had to admit she was right. If it weren't for Kiana's overwhelming love for him and her will to return, she never could've returned to her body. Loving him was more important to her than being a witch.

Harry reflected upon all she had given up for him one morning as he watched his wife sleep. Her chest rose and fell rhythmically as her body slowly reclaimed life. Throughout the past few days, the color had returned to her cheeks and her heart's beats had normalized, which gave Harry, Ron and Hermione great hope for her recovery. Aurors from the Ministry had hooked her up to an IV, giving her nourishment 24/7.

Hermione entered the room tentatively, and Harry glanced up at her. Her bushy hair was tied back from her face, accentuating the redness in her eyes and the bags underneath. Harry silently acknowledged that Hermione and Ron were sleeping as little as he was.

"Harry, you need to get out of this house," Hermione spoke softly, hesitantly. "I'm afraid you're going to lose the last of your sanity if you watch her every minute until she awakens. She's okay, Harry; we can do nothing else for her. Go take a walk and perhaps buy some coffee. It's a beautiful morning."

Harry sighed slow and deep. He nodded after a moment and leaned over to kiss his wife lightly on one cheek. His legs felt weak and unstable as he walked past Hermione and out through the front door. His eyes took in nothing of what he saw: His dark mind seemed to have taken over everything. He couldn't forget the sacrifice Kiana had made for him or the look of peace in her eyes before she went unconscious.

As he headed down the street and through the neighborhood, he realized how much he had needed to get out. He had slowly been getting ill in that small bedroom but hadn't known it until now as he viewed the bright colors of the trees and the paleness of the sky. He breathed in long and deep, praying that one day soon he'd be able to step outside and enjoy the cool weather with Kiana at his side.

With Harry absent, Hermione took advantage of the quiet moment by sitting at her ill friend's bedside. She smoothed back the hair from Kiana's pale face and sighed wearily. She leaned forward and rested her head in her arms on the edge of the bed. She let a few tears fall as she prayed for her friend to awaken soon. She hoped her silent pleas would be heard so she'd see Kiana smile again. She didn't know how long Harry could last without his wife's presence.

"'Mione…"

Hermione slowly looked up toward the door, but neither Ron nor Harry stood inside the room. She frowned and turned back, and when she caught sight of Kiana's deep brown eyes staring quizzically back at her, Hermione let out a small shriek and clutched the bed sheets with both hands.

"Kiana! Oh my god…"

Kiana's frown deepened and she spoke in a weak, hoarse voice. "Hermione, what's wrong? Where's…where's Harry? Is he alright?"

Hermione forced herself to breathe slow and even as she took Kiana's hand. "Yes, he's alright. He just left to take a walk. He'll be back soon…Kiana, how are you feeling?"

Kiana grimaced, as if her words had reminded her of some inner pain. "You don't want to know. I need to see him, Hermione."

"Just wait, Kiana. Please. I promise he'll be back soon. Kiana…your voice…"

Kiana stared back with confusion.

"All the spells upon you broke!" Hermione whispered with a growing smile. "Do you realize that?"

Kiana managed a small smile. "I didn't notice. My memories are too fuzzy right now…"

To Hermione's shock, Kiana rolled herself up and tried to swing her legs over the bed.

"Kiana, don't be so foolish!" Hermione placed her hands on her friend's shoulders to keep her still. "You've been unconscious for a whole _week_; you can't just get up and…"

"I need to see him, Hermione." Kiana spoke with firm conviction, however weak her voice remained. "He's hurting still and I can't stand it…he's so alone…"

Hermione swallowed hard but kept her firm grip. "Then your…connection is still intact?"

Kiana smiled rather sheepishly. "I'd want my money back if I went through all that for nothing. Apparently Harry hasn't deserted me yet, no matter how long I've been comatose."

Hermione hesitated a moment before she spoke. "Kiana, I can't let you walk yet. You're very weak and I don't want you to hurt yourself."

Kiana groaned dramatically and stared up into Hermione's eyes with fierce determination. "Hermione, I understand your concerns, but right now you're making this a _whole _lot worse! I want to be the first one to speak to him; I don't want to be visited like a patient in her sickbed."

Tears came to Hermione's eyes at this simple speech, because underneath Kiana's stubbornness lay the spark of the old Kiana Hermione had known and loved. It was truly a miracle that, merely a week ago, Kiana was known to be dying in the hands of the Dark Lord, and now she was not only transformed back to her true self but also spoke with her old fiery personality.

Knowing it was useless to argue further, Hermione backed away and nodded with a sympathetic smile, tears glistening in her brown eyes. "Okay, Kiana. You can go see your husband."


	19. Only A Memory

Chapter Nineteen: Only a Memory

Somewhere there waiteth in this world of ours

For one lone soul another lonely soul,

Each choosing each through all the weary hours,

And meeting strangely at one sudden goal,

Then blend they, like green leaves with golden flowers,

Into one beautiful and perfect whole;

And life's long night is ended, and the way

Lies open onward to eternal day.

**Edwin Arnold**

Harry sat outside his house in the backyard on a smooth, wide rock. The wind whipped his thick hair as he watched a pair of birds prance across the branch of an old oak. His head pounded with the familiar ache of his emotions, and he almost couldn't remember what it had been like to live in a relaxed, pain-free body. He knew only one cure for his pain and he wasn't likely to receive it anytime soon.

Hesitant footsteps shuffled through the grass behind him, and he hung his head, waiting for the moment when Hermione or Ron would force him to come in and take care of himself with a meal or rest.

"Harry?"

His head shot up and his eyes widened, but he did not turn toward the voice. His heart pounded erratically as he waited to hear if the voice spoke to him again. If it didn't, he knew it was nothing but a ghost from his memory.

Instead the footsteps quickened, and someone laid a hand on his shoulder. He tensed but didn't move, subconsciously believing that moving or speaking would break the spell and he'd be left alone.

Kiana slowly crouched beside him and stared up into his face. Harry saw the wet tears in her eyes, the brightness of her long, brown hair, and the slight parting of her lips in unparalleled amazement as they both studied the other.

Kiana moaned softly and extended a hand to touch his face. Her fingers traced the dark stubble on his chin and cheeks, while her eyes found the compassion and adoration she knew had always been hers.

"Harry. You're alive." She spoke in the smallest of whispers, but Harry understood everything she poured into those three simple words. He also recognized the change in her voice, and a sob rose in his throat as he touched her face and felt the warmth of her skin.

"You have no idea," he wept, "how long I've waited to hear you speak my name like that."

As if his voice had destroyed any doubt in their minds that this was still a dream, Kiana fell into his arms in all-consuming relief. His lips soon found hers and they kissed with all the suppressed passion and energy Kiana didn't know either one of them had. Harry's previous grief transformed into a reunion of tears and joyful sobs. They clutched onto the other with the ferocity of complete, unselfish love as if their separation had torn them apart for decades.

When their tears had quieted some, they lay wrapped in each other's arms silently. Kiana closed her eyes as she listened to Harry's soft breaths and the pulsing of his heart. They remained this way for almost a quarter of an hour before they felt the urge to speak. They didn't loosen their grip in case the slightest act of magic tore them apart.

Kiana knew that Harry's mind wasn't emptied of the heartache and grief that had almost destroyed him mere days ago. She looked up into his eyes and silently begged him to speak.

Harry sighed and looked away. "I don't want to bring it up now, Kiana. I don't know how much you remember."

But Kiana couldn't hold back any longer. "Why do I feel so different, Harry? And why do I feel like…" With a jolt of panic, she pulled back the sleeve of her shirt and studied her bold Dark Mark. She touched it with her other hand, testing its power.

Nothing happened.

Harry pulled her sleeve back up. "Kiana, Voldemort's gone. You destroyed him, along with all the other dead who had tortured us. Your Dark Mark won't bother you for the rest of your life."

With these words, the memories swarmed back in, catching her off guard. She inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, allowing the images of Voldemort, Bellatrix, Snape and even Cedric to remind her how close she had been to death. But Cedric had helped her find a way to save herself, and the dead had returned to the afterlife. But what had disappeared with them?

Her tears renewed themselves with force. "I lost it all, didn't I?" she whispered. "My magic is gone. It's all destroyed."

Harry nodded slowly, watching her carefully. "I'm sorry, Kiana. I tried to find a way…I tried so hard to…"

Kiana pressed her finger to his lips and scanned his face with a furrowed brow. "It was _my_ choice, Harry. I knew what I was doing all along; I just forgot until now. Why do you look so distressed, Harry? You're killing me with your grief."

Harry tenderly kissed her forehead but didn't reply.

"No, Harry." Kiana pulled away and tried to force him to take her seriously. "I don't want you to feel guilty _again _for the choices I've made! I won't _allow _you to feel guilty again!"

Harry chuckled darkly. "How will you manage that, my dear?"

Kiana pursed her lips in irritation. "Don't you ever call me 'my dear', Potter! I'm not some old housewife who…"

Harry laughed with more sincerity and kissed her again to hush her. "I'm so glad my Kiana is back." His eyes glistened with both love and grief. "I've missed you so much I can hardly believe this is real. I won't promise that I'll never feel guilty again for what you've gone through, but I _will _swear that I will protect you for the rest of your life, even if I have to suffer or die to fulfill that promise. However…" He chuckled again. "I must admit that you've done a decent job saving your own skin. I can never be as strong as you, Kiana. You put me to shame."

Kiana shook her head in silent disagreement and ran a hand through his rumpled hair. "Potter, you never give yourself enough credit. I wouldn't be here today if I hadn't kept you in my heart the entire time, and I have you to thank for that. You never gave up on me, even when it seemed I had deserted you."

Harry's eyes widened slightly. "You never forgot about me? Even with…Cedric?"

Kiana smiled self-consciously and pulled him closer to her. "Cedric was my best friend at the time, but that's only because I was grieving everything I lost with you when I was trapped alone in Caerleon. I sought to fulfill the ache in my heart in the wrong places, and that's where Voldemort found me. They were only able to make me believe I didn't love you because I was so lost without you that I could be coerced easily. If you promise to never leave my side, I promise to never fall for another man until I die."

Harry wrapped his arms tighter around her and buried his face into her neck. "I will give you all that and more. Coming so close to losing you this time only made me fall even deeper in love with you, and I fully realize how dead I am without you in my life. And I guess we've proved one thing…"

"What's that?"

Harry smiled against her chest. "That not even death is an excuse to pull me away from you. I love you, Kiana. More than you could ever imagine."

"And I love you," Kiana whispered back. "I don't deserve you, but I'm glad you think I do." Her face fell slightly as another longing filled her heart, and Harry smiled, understanding instantly.

"Wait right here, love. I'll be right back." Harry squeezed her hand before he retreated from the rock and approached their house. Kiana's pulse raced, and it seemed to take an hour before he returned.

Her entire body was weak and her legs shook as she rose, but she pushed the pain from her mind and ran toward her husband as he approached her with a blanketed bundle in his arms.

Kiana held out her arms eagerly and Harry slowly placed their son into her arms. Her legs weakened further as Darrin's dark brown eyes met hers, and she let out a great sob as his tiny warmth filled her heart. Harry wrapped his arms around her to keep her standing, and she leaned against his chest as all her suppressed fear and grief over Darrin's safety spilled out in her tears. She hadn't known how powerfully she had longed for him until now when he was at last in her arms. She kissed his small, dimpled cheeks and buried her face into his thick, unruly black hair. The sweet newborn smell of him calmed her tears, and she glanced up at Harry with a fierce glow in her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered, pouring everything she couldn't express into her voice.

Harry heard it all and kissed her and Darrin consecutively. He didn't reply, for no reply was satisfactory for what had just been brought back together.

Harry had never been a religious man, but right then, as he held both his wife and son in his arms, he praised whichever deity looked down upon his family and smiled.

"Take your time, Kiana. We have all evening."

Harry seemed to drift into the distance as Kiana stood, alone, beside the gravestone of Cedric Diggory. The chill breeze rustled through the forest surrounding the small Hogwarts cemetery, and Kiana's cloak whipped out behind her as she knelt over the resting place of her friend. Her cheeks reddened at the wind's sting, but she didn't notice any physical discomfort. Her mind flashed back to that night – now seemingly so long ago – when Cedric had tried to convince her that she possessed romantic love for Harry alone.

"_He will come for you. He always does. Now let me go before it's too late…"_

"_NO! Cedric, you can't leave me! I love you! I can't survive Voldemort without you!"_

"_Don't cry, Kiana; all this will soon be a dim memory to you. I have been dead a long time, Kiana…too long. If you love me, you'll let me return to my true home." _

The memory of his words came back to her unaided, as if Cedric's spirit whispered the words into her mind. Kiana had forgotten much after she had given her magic away to destroy Voldemort. She recalled the pain of Voldemort and Bellatrix's tortures and Snape digging inside her soul, but the conversations that passed between herself and the Death Eaters were dim. She didn't know whether this was because of the destruction of her magic, or because she was no longer being possessed by the Dark Lord.

She remembered Cedric the most. Her memories of him were clarified and accentuated as she knelt beside Cedric's remains, and her head ached as she remembered the fierce passion she had experienced in his presence, how his every smile and every touch sent sparks flowing through her veins. She chastised herself now as she recalled how suddenly and desperately she had fallen for him. How could she have not known the truth? How could she have accepted his presence in her life so completely and unquestionably?

Tears welled in her eyes as Kiana carefully took the red rose from an inside pocket of her cloak and set it down beside his grave marker. Her hand lingered there for a moment until she slowly rested a finger upon the deep indentations in the stone and traced his name with agonizing care. The sun's dying beams floated across the stone, warming her hand.

It took her awhile before she found her voice. It shook from her tears, but she knew he would understand anyway. "I love you, Cedric, and I promise I'll never forget you. Thank you for taking care of me. I'm glad both of us finally found peace."

Verbally speaking these words sent a rush of grief through her body, and her renewed tears blurred his craved name.

It was not all sorrow, though. Kiana knew, somehow, that he was safe and happy, and that knowledge meant the world to her. She prayed that they would meet again in a place where Voldemort could not intrude.

Harry softly placed a hand upon her shoulder, and she lifted a hand to squeeze it. "Yes," she whispered. "I'm ready to go home."

The rose she had left for him seemed to sink into the dirt, anchoring itself to his grave like it had been there all along.

**SIX MONTHS LATER**

"Darrin! Oh hell, not again. I guess that means you're done?"

Darrin grinned his charismatic toothy smile as his mother bent to manually clean up the oatmeal he had dumped upon the floor for the third time. It was one of these times when Kiana sorely missed her magic.

As if in answer to her silent grumblings, the food instantly vanished and the plastic bowl soared into the sink. Kiana looked up in irritation as Harry replaced his wand.

"I was doing just fine!" she retorted with a scowl.

Harry chuckled as Kiana rose to her feet. "I know. I just hate watching you battle such drudgery when it's so unnecessary."

"It _is _necessary when I'm home alone." Kiana took a rag from the sink and wiped the remaining mess from her son's face and hands. "I've adjusted quite well to being a Muggle mom, thank you very much. I almost forget how much I'm working when I spend time with the Muggle neighbors…fine, Darrin, have the rag!" She dropped the washcloth and Darrin happily gnawed away on its wet folds.

Harry wrapped his arms around her waist and smiled at his son. "Your mummy's more amazing than we thought possible, isn't that right, Darrin?"

The baby grinned wider and banged the cloth down on his high chair with a plump little fist.

"You sound surprised," Kiana teased her husband. "You thought I was incapable of living without magic?"

"Of course not," Harry replied quickly. "I'm just surprised at how little you're complaining. If it were me…" His smile vanished and his lips tightened as darker thoughts crossed his mind.  
Kiana pressed her lips to his. "Let's be thankful it's _not _you; you're gaining such popularity at the Ministry that I wouldn't be surprised if you became an official Auror in less than another year. Right now I'm more than happy being a stay-at-home mom. I'm glad I don't have to let someone else experience his day-to-day changes, which would've happened if I had gone back to the Ministry."

Harry laughed softly. "Where did this constant optimism come from, Kiana? When I married you, you didn't often find every silver lining."

Kiana shrugged in a weak attempt to be nonchalant. "When you've almost had your life snapped from you, you learn to appreciate things more. I have no choice but to be optimistic, don't I?"

"Speaking of appreciating things…" Harry dug inside his traveling cloak to reveal two white envelopes. "Someone's birthday is approaching and I thought I'd buy these early."

Kiana couldn't hold back a wide smile. "Harry, you pathetic liar! You told me I'd have a quiet birthday at home this year."

"Well, I felt like taking Darrin on his first road trip. Don't you want to open them?"

Kiana snatched the envelopes before he finished and tore open one so violently the skin on one finger burst with scarlet blood. She ignored the paper cut and opened the envelope to find a one-way ticket to Madison, Wisconsin. The other envelope contained the same.

When the reality of his present fully sunk in, Kiana glanced up at Harry with wide eyes. "Harry…I don't know what to say…"

"You don't have to say anything. You more than deserve to return home and see your family after all you've been through. It's about time, I'd say." His eyes lit with pride. "And that's not all, for we're not simply visiting your family and then leaving. I have several paid holidays lined up, so I thought we'd spend an entire month taking a road trip around America. You can show me all those famous sights the English are ignorant about. You can drive, of course. I'm sure you'll appreciate driving on the right-hand side of the road again."

She laughed at the memory of him teaching her to drive on the "wrong" side of the road. It seemed like years ago. "I think I remember why I fell in love with you."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Oh, it wasn't just for my money?"

Kiana punched him lightly in the stomach, and Harry responded by lifting her off her feet and throwing her on the couch before he playfully wrestled her. Kiana put up a good fight to fend off his advances until her shrieks of laughter weakened her resolve and she kissed him. They didn't pull apart until Darrin screamed out in protest of being trapped alone in his high chair.

"Don't open them yet! We're almost there."

Kiana bit down on her lower lip as her husband led her through the open field. She couldn't sense anything except the prickly grass around her sandals and the crisp wind through her loose hair. Harry kept a firm grip over her eyes.

They had parked outside an empty field, and besides the trill of the birds, the only other sounds came from the squeals of children at the nearby playground. It was their second week in America, and although the couple usually split the task of event planning, that day Harry told her that he didn't want her to know anything they were doing. Kiana's curiosity spiked at his words, but she didn't bother him about it.

The soft trickle of water reached her ears as they crept closer to their unseen destination, and Kiana smiled as she pictured the serene location they must be walking through.

"Are we almost there?" she asked impatiently.

"Almost. I think they're ready for us."

"They?"

"Wait here one moment. Keep your eyes closed." Harry halted her and took his hands off her eyes, and Kiana squeezed them tighter as the sun peeked through her lids.

Harry must have taken Darrin with him in the stroller, because she no longer heard his babbling. She waited as patiently as she could for several minutes until she heard the shuffle of footsteps approaching her again.

"Okay, a little further," Harry's voice instructed. "Only a few feet…that's it, stop now. Okay…open your eyes!"

Kiana's voice left her and she held her hands over her mouth in complete shock. She staggered and gripped Harry's arm with one hand as her entire family shouted, "Surprise!"

Everyone was there, from her mother and stepfather, to her little brother, cousins, and grandparents. They all stood under a wooden enclosure, and several grouped around a large, two-tier pink birthday cake dotted with candles, which her little cousins pointed to excitedly.

Kiana's mother ran to her first, pulling her into a warm embrace. Kiana clutched her back and buried her head into her shoulder, inhaling the spiciness of her mother's favorite perfume and remembering the days of her childhood when her mother could cure anything with a hug.

"Kiana, darling, we've missed you so much!" Her mom took her face between her hands, studying her with complete adoration. "You've been away too long. Who was the idiot who made you move to England?"

Kiana shrugged and tilted her head to the side with a smirk. Mrs. Karn turned to Harry with a chuckle.

Harry gave a thin-lipped smile. "I guess I'm that idiot."

Kiana's mom laughed and took Harry next into her arms. "You both look wonderful! I see you've kept her alive in that country of yours, Harry."

Harry's expression darkened slightly, but only Kiana noticed. "I try, ma'am."

"Oh heavens, why didn't I see him before?" Mrs. Karn turned her attention to the quiet baby in the stroller, who looked up at his grandmother with both curiosity and suspicion. "He looks like a mini Harry except for those eyes…" She murmured away in baby verse as she scooped Darrin out of his stroller and kissed his chubby cheeks. Darrin held out his palms and touched his grandma's cheeks before his face, too, lit up with a smile.

Harry wrapped an arm around Kiana's waist and pulled her closer to him. Kiana leaned her head against his shoulder in contentment as they watched grandmother and grandchild get acquainted.

After much cuddling and kissing, Mrs. Karn turned back to Darrin's parents with Darrin planted firmly on her hip. "Well, besides having this adorable baby boy, of course, anything else adventurous happen to you this year?"

Kiana and Harry cast each other knowing smiles before Kiana replied, "I have enough adventures with him each day to satisfy me, Mom. I certainly can't complain about my adventure-less life. Can you, Harry?"

Kiana could tell his mind was elsewhere for a moment before he replied. "Certainly not. I have enough excitement at work that I'm perfectly content to come home to a quiet house…well, quiet until our son pulls a tantrum out of some small disappointment."

Mrs. Karn chuckled and motioned to the rest of the family who seemed anxious to interrupt the small reunion. "Let's go eat before your cousins attack that cake. I guess I'll have to share Darrin with the rest…"

Harry kissed Kiana on the cheek. "Are you pleased with your surprise?"

Kiana smiled back, her eyes shining. "Pleased? Harry, this goes beyond your usual surprises. You even bought plane tickets because I can no longer Apparate with you. Why do you spoil me like this? You're putting me in your debt."

"Hardly. This is small compared to everything you've done for me. I believe I'll always be _your _debt. I'd do anything for you, Kiana."

She smiled back with a gleam of sadness. "Enough of that, Harry. I don't want you feeling this guilt for the rest of your life. If you _really _want to make it up to me, then forget this past year happened and just stay my devoted husband. Can you do that?"

Harry chuckled and kissed her again. "_That'll _take no effort at all. Now can we join the party? I believe your mother created that delicious-looking cake…"

As they walked toward her family, a thought came to Kiana's mind and she smiled eagerly up at her husband. "Actually, there is something else you can do."

Harry caught the mischievous glint in her eyes and raised his eyebrows. "Do I want to know?"

"Well, you know how tired I am of driving across the states, so as we continue the road trip…"

Harry groaned loudly. "Are you trying to pay me back for the lessons I gave you in Fulham? I think the purpose of those was slightly different than what you're trying to…"

"Oh come on, Harry. As someone told me once: 'you're a perfect driver in England, so why is this so different? I'm not looking for perfection here'."

Harry rolled his eyes. "You do a horrible job impersonating me."

"So will you give me a break here? It's only for a few more weeks."

Harry sighed just to be more dramatic. "I guess I owe you that much. That's one adventure I'd gladly share with you. Just don't fall asleep and leave me driving alone: You may wake up dead."

Kiana shook her head with a small smile. "You're terrible. But at least I'd be content with one thing."

"Hmm? What's that?"

She took his hand and squeezed it. "I'd never wish to face death with anyone else but you."

He smiled back. "You can be sure of that, Kiana. Always."


	20. Epilogue

Epilogue

Real love stories never have endings.

**- Richard Bach**

It was dark as Kiana slowly approached the memorial. It had been ten years since she'd been to Washington, D.C., but the previous visit didn't hold any meaning to her. This visit was completely different. That night, Kiana visited the country's capital not as a citizen, but as a foreigner. And she felt a foreigner in every part of her body, no matter that she had been returned to her natural form.

The nightmare of the past year had only exaggerated her perplexing thoughts on her heritage and sense of self. She had married Harry as an American, but she had almost lost herself completely under Voldemort and thus no longer felt like she belonged in America. She had escaped from the Dark Lord but still felt like he had taken something important that couldn't be replaced.

Harry knew this, of course. These secret, unshared thoughts of hers were partly the reason why he had suggested the tour around America, and for this Kiana was thankful. Sometimes their connection was more useful than she could ever have imagined, because she wasn't always able or willing to voice aloud her secrets.

As Kiana walked around the World War II memorial, she shivered under the bright lights illuminating each of the fifty states carved on their own individual panels. She walked, studying each one, until she came to the stone marked "Minnesota."

Something cold descended into her stomach as she studied that one simple name that held so much meaning. She tried to remember the Kiana whom Harry had met at Hogwarts – the girl who had dueled with him in a secret club, and the one who had shared an intimate moment with him in the Room of Requirement, where she had received a silver bracelet marked with the words "l'amour conquerra tous."

What had happened to that girl? Why was it so hard to bring her back?

Kiana gingerly stretched out a hand and rested her fingers over the letters of her childhood state. Unexpectedly, her knees weakened and she almost slid to the ground, but suddenly Harry was behind her, holding her up.

"You don't have to say good-bye," he whispered in her ear. "It doesn't have to only be a memory. Keep it inside of you so you'll never forget who you are. No spell can change where you came from, and I hope you'll never forget that."

Kiana looked up at him. "Why do you always seem so confident? Why can't I be as strong as you?"

Harry grimaced slightly. "You don't understand me if you think I'm constantly stable. I try to remember what is important to me when I'm struggling through life, and there's always people around to give me strength. Now come on…we have to show Darrin the best part."

Frowning, Kiana followed him past the memorial and down a long, narrow path toward the National Monument: a thin, pencil-like structure encircled by dozens of American flags. From afar, it didn't seem like the most spectacular attraction, but all that changed when they entered the circled path to stand among the monument and flags.

A shiver raced down her arms and legs as she lifted Darrin into her arms. The flags flapped in the cool breeze as the spotlights illuminated the isolated area. Harry smiled down at her as she completely took in the monument, and suddenly it all made sense.

Darrin gazed, mystified, at the flapping colors of the flags. He silently pointed up to one, and Kiana smiled. "Yes, Darrin, that's your country's flag. One day I'll take you back to Minnesota and you'll see your heritage. I hope you'll be as fond of this country as I am."

Harry wrapped an arm around her shoulder and she leaned against him, no longer feeling separated from home. She now knew that home wasn't a state, town or country, but a place where one is surrounded by love. The future shone in front of her and her family like a great beacon, and Kiana knew everything was alright again. She was finally home.

_I've always been home, _she thought, smiling up at her husband. _I just never saw the truth. _

****THE END****


End file.
